


The Education of a Lost Hummingbird

by Vixen13



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha!Hunk, Alpha!Keith, Alpha!Shiro, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Casual Sex, M/M, Marking, Minor Hunk/Lance (Voltron), Omega!Lance, Open Relationships, Past Abuse, Rough Sex, Scenting, dubcon topics, omegas in power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 51,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25806652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixen13/pseuds/Vixen13
Summary: As the third prince, Lance has certain expectations placed upon him when it comes to helping run his great nation, but his favorite part is the charity work. Of course, that extends to offering commoner alphas a night with a ravishing omega such as himself. That is until he meets a furiously angry and rude alpha who is overly protective of his mate.From then on, everything changes. Lance is coming to realize that he may not understand his citizens as well as he once thought, and if that wasn’t hard enough, someone unknown is plotting against him. Lance’s bad decisions lead him to entrusting his life to two alphas who have every right to hate him: Keith and Shiro.
Relationships: Keith/Lance/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 160
Kudos: 287





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cuba is located in the Antilles, and since I also wanted Hunk to be a part of Lance’s kingdom, and Samoa is part of Oceania, I combined the two to make one word for the fantasy realm Ontillia. The nation of Jomon is a nod to prehistoric Japan. Phoenicia is an ancient civilization that’s name was derived from a Greek word meaning “purple country” so of course I had to use that for Keith’s Galra side. I followed a list of historical wars that connected to Italy whose ancient civilization is called Umbri, or Ombrii, which means “the people of the thunderstorm” and I found that suited Keith well.
> 
> This is not historically accurate by any means. I’m just picking through history for names that I want and building a culture from there with a hand-wavy timeframe. This is a fantasy world with twisted geography and cultures to suit the needs of the story.
> 
> It feels decidedly awkward for me to write anything other than “abuela” in this kind of culture, so I’ma write it. I will also likely switch languages for slang, regional food, and major events. Spanish speakers do not have a fête, they have a fiesta. You feel me? You feel me.
> 
>  **Warnings:** This story deals with misconstruing consent, contains talk and fear of noncon, explores power imbalance vs good(and bad) intentions, delves into a society where sex is not a taboo, and will show some mild violence. Please be aware of your own mental/emotional limitations when reading this kind of content.

Lance was laughing with his guards and courtiers, saltwater still dripping from the tips of his hair and leaving a trail along the marble floors of the palace. They walked through the wide hall that faced the cliffs, ocean waves crashing against them in the distance. The sea breeze flowed freely through the pillars and railings. Most of the palace was designed to catch the smell of the ocean and let it flow through the massive building that sprawled along the natural rise and fall of the hills along the northern coast.

The palace walls were whitewashed stone, light wood, and a variety of decorative shells and jewels that raced along the trimming in various designs. Though the politics of court could be stifling, the palace grounds more than made up for it. It was a beautiful place to live, and it was home. The McClain family had ruled there for countless generations.

“Have you riled yourself up enough, my prince?” Joaquín, one of Lance’s regularly attending courtiers asked. He grinned wickedly. “I can smell your lust from here.”

Lance laughed. “Oh, I think I’ll find myself a pretty young alpha to bed today!”

“No greater gift in all the lands than to have a taste of you!”

“Ohhh! You flirt.” Lance turned around so that he could walk backwards as he brushed his fingers along Joaquín’s cheek. “I think someone just wants between my legs.”

Joaquín had always been too forward in his desire to climb the ladder of society. His constant attempts to bed the third prince was testament to that. Not that Lance minded the attention. Besides, Joaquín was a master of gossip, and it was best to keep potential enemies close and devoted. Flirting back was no skin off Lance’s back.

“I could show you all that you’ve been missing out on. No alpha compares to me.” That sadistic glint passed through Joaquín’s eyes. The dark promise of it intrigued Lance, as he rarely got to experience anything other than pure reverence from his partners. Still, though he was always tempted — some occasions more than others — it was best to keep Joaquín at a very specific distance.

“You are so confident considering palace alphas are trained in the arts of service their entire lives.” Lance smirked his challenge.

The other two courtiers that tended to stick to Lance like glue, Yoelvis and Celia, laughed, teasing Joaquín for blowing smoke. Before Joaquín could make good on the dark challenge that sparked in his eyes, a voice interrupted them, grabbing their attention at once.

“Lance!”

Whirling around, Lance saw his grandmother, Graciela, walking towards him, her fine silk dress and greying hair billowing around her in the sea breeze. Lance’s grin grew wide and genuine as he hurried over to her, taking her hands and exchanging a quick kiss on the cheek. “ _Abuela_! How are you today?”

“I am well.” She was smiling but still running a critical eye over his blue cotton tunic, dappled with wet spots. “Do not tell me you were cliff jumping again. You. A prince. Whose safety is paramount.”

Lance looked appropriately guilty, shoulders curling up around his ears. “It was a short cliff?”

Graciela sighed and waved her hand to dismiss the hovering courtiers who were all still holding poses of respect. “Let us walk, my dear. We must speak.”

The guards backed up a respectable distance away to offer privacy, leaving Lance and Graciela to slowly walk arm-in-arm down the hall, occasionally gazing at the drop off of the cliffs and the glittering ocean beyond. Lance loved his grandmother dearly. She was a powerful omega and had taught him practically everything of import that he knew. Living life as a royal was a little less tedious with her lifelong knowledge on his side.

“I hear you have been seeking alphas outside the palace,” she said.

“I’ve been keeping that mostly quiet!” Lance pouted. He didn’t ask how she knew. She tended to know everything. It was just a fact of life.

“Are the palace alphas not pleasing you? I thought that you and Hunk got along well. He has always been so good to you during your heats.”

“Hunk is _fine._ He’s very careful and respectful and practically worships me.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“That _is_ the problem!” Lance groaned. Perhaps he would not be so blunt with the rest of his family, but he could talk about anything with his grandmother. She always understood. “Maybe I don’t want a well-trained alpha. Maybe I want something a little wild and unpredictable.”

“Well…” Graciela tilted her head in thought. “I cannot entirely blame you. I had my moments in my youth.”

Lance perked up. “Really? A bit of a rebel, were you?”

She grinned. “I drove my father crazy, I can tell you that.”

“I could see it.”

Graciela chuckled before turning serious once more. “Though I do understand, I still have to preach caution. You are a prince. Untrained alphas, especially those in the working class, have rarely encountered an omega, much less learned to control their impulses during a rut.”

“That’s the point! I don’t mind if they get a little rough.”

“Perhaps you do not, but if others were to connect any accidental injuries to your dalliances, the alpha would be punished, whether you want that or not. You hold great power in your position, but sometimes, that power is beyond your control.”

Lance deflated a bit. “I understand. I promise, I really am careful. I don’t pick them too wild. I just want enough to get a thrill out of that look in their eyes.” Lance shivered in delight at the mental image.

Graciela gave him a look. “The longer you partake, the higher the chances of something going wrong. Why don’t you try expressing your needs to a palace alpha. I just cannot see Hunk denying you any request.”

“No, he’d do anything for me,” Lance said, but he wasn’t happy about it.

It wasn’t that Lance didn’t like Hunk. They’d been close for a long time. Hunk was one of the few truly genuine people that Lance knew. If a prince could trust anyone as a friend, then Hunk was definitely Lance’s best friend. The sex was good, but after so long, it was also boring. There was no fire between them. It was comfortable and safe. Sometimes Lance needed that, but other times, like recently, Lance was itching for something much more intense.

“I do hope you clear this from your system soon,” Graciela said, realizing it was a losing battle to continue trying to talk Lance out of it.

“Don’t worry!” Lance cajoled, leaning his shoulder into hers. “It’s just a phase!”

A smirk pulled at one side of her lips. “I will hold you to that.”

꧁___꧂

The sugar cane mill was full of alpha laborers. They were often shirtless, sweaty, and covered in dirt. The thick smell of musk hung in the air, so pungent it was almost disgusting, but also so full of pheromones that an omega’s libido would be making constant grabby hands. Lance would know, since he was practically drooling over the sight of all the prime alpha meat.

The only downside to his excursion was that his ever-present courtiers had caught wind of his plan and followed Lance to the mill. They found the entire thing a great source of entertainment, constantly daring each other to pick an alpha to fuck. Betas didn’t hold as much power over alphas, but a member of court held plenty of power over a simple laborer. Lance never cared for how much they seemed to get off on that imbalance, especially Joaquín.

“I can’t tell if I’d end up filthy or they’d end up cleaner if they sucked my cock,” Joaquín said as he frowned down at all the alphas kneeling before Lance.

“Two things can be true,” Yoelvis said with great amusement. He and Celia snickered behind their hands.

Lance’s butler, Florona, stood by impassively, occasionally trading words with Overseer Iverson who ran the mill. A few more workers were hurrying to join the crowd and drop to their knees in order to show respect. They all sat on their heels, palms flat on the ground, and head bowed. A few had their necks bared, but that had less to do with Lance’s princely status and more to do with him being an omega.

Lance hummed as he languidly weaved his way around the group of alphas. His guards hovered by, hands gripping their spears, uncomfortable with how close Lance was to the commoners. Not that it mattered, anyhow. Lance was the one in full control of the situation. If he willed it, none of the alphas would be capable of harming him.

Taking a deep breath, Lance scented the alphas that kneeled closest to him. They smelled delicious. The reek of sweat and grime did little to deter from it. A few alphas dared to peek up at him, fascinated at the sight of a real omega. He grinned and watched most of them look away with a flush and a tensing of muscles as they tried to maintain their restraint. It was cute. And _thrilling._

“Half of them don’t even look Ontillian,” Joaquín said, the contempt obvious in his voice. “Just how many immigrants have we allowed into the capital?”

Overseer Iverson cleared his throat, shoulders back and nose in the air, looking the picture of affronted. “My lord, all of my workers have been born within the country.”

“I can’t tell if that’s better or worse,” Joaquín muttered.

Lance waved that off. “I like a little variety. Lighten up.”

“You take your charity work too far,” he returned, unafraid to speak his mind, even to an omega prince.

“Now you sound like my _abuela_ ,” Lance complained. “Don’t be such an old lady.”

“I’ll make sure your grandmother never knows you implied she was that old.” Celia smirked. Lance gave her the stink eye which just sent her into a fit of giggles.

Lance turned his attention back to the alphas, eyes landing on one particularly lovely lady, arms wrapped with muscles but tempered with soft hips. “Why, hello there!” Lance crooned. “I am here to grace you with my presence and give you the night of your life.”

She flinched in surprise, heat suffusing her cheeks as she muttered incoherent things. Lance turned up the intensity a little, letting just a sliver of his scent release, spiked with interest and arousal. The alphas around him all shivered, the smell of their want wafting into the air and wrapping around Lance like a thick blanket. He hummed in pleasure at it.

But underneath the warm buzz was the sharp smell of anxiety. Confused, Lance turned and followed to source until he was looking at a broad-shouldered and fine specimen of a man. He had foreign blood, Jomon from the looks of him, and sported dark black hair with a streak of white in it. One of his arms tapered off into a stub halfway down his forearm, but the other was corded with muscle and ended in a large hand that Lance’s imagination was finding a million uses for.

The anxiety made sense. The poor alpha probably thought that he would never enjoy the company of an omega considering his status and disfigurement. Well, good thing Lance was charitable! Not that it was much of a sacrifice. The man was _hot._

“Hey, handsome.” Lance walked over and ran a finger down the man’s jaw, watching transfixed as those dark grey eyes grew wide upon witnessing Lance’s glory.

The entire mood was shattered as an abrupt punch of possessiveness and anger filled the air, overpowering the lingering scent of the other excited alphas. A growl trailed in its wake. Startled, Lance looked over to see a smaller man of mixed heritage glaring at him like nobody had ever dared to before in his life. He wasn’t sure how to even respond to it. Lance had never experienced that kind of aggression face-to-face.

“Oh heavens,” Yoelvis said, aiming for scandalized but only sounding excited at the display. “They must be mated!”

Celia wrinkled her nose. “Two alphas? How distasteful.”

“Come now, Celia. Who else are they going to mate with?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Joaquín pointed out. “They should be blessed to have their partner chosen and then fuck each other to the thought of it for years to come.”

“Well you can’t expect proper manners from such low class citizens,” Celia sniffed, still offended on Lance’s behalf.

The growling alpha didn’t take a hint and only tensed up more, his anger overflowing and causing those around him to fidget. He shot dark looks between Lance and the others, his fingertips digging into the dirt. The overseer’s disapproval was almost palpable. Lance needed to diffuse the situation. He didn’t want anyone getting hurt.

Walking the few paces to the other alpha, Lance let go of the hold he kept on his scent. He let it fill the air as he very slowly reached out to the alpha that thankfully remained on hands and knees. His scent wafted from his wrist, a concentrated dose that the agitated alpha pulled in with quick breaths. Lance watched as blue-grey eyes dilated and went distant. The harsh breathing mellowed out and the smell of anger was washed away in the face of Lance’s control. The alpha made a soft, pained noise in his throat, likely confused since this was bound to be his first time encountering such a heavy dose of omega pheromones.

Lance brushed his hand along the alpha’s cheek. The man was younger than his mate, slimmer and more narrow in the shoulders. A laborer’s muscle still showed under his skin, but it didn’t bulk in the slightest. He didn’t have the heavy frame of masculine alphas, nor the soft curves of feminine alphas. All in all, he was forgettable. Or he would have been, had his recklessness not been so captivating.

“He’s a mutt,” Joaquín said, but there was a sadistic hint to his voice that spoke of his darker inclinations. “Someone should see to training him properly.”

Lance sighed. Well, that did it. The alpha had officially caught Joaquín’s interest. Luckily, Joaquín had a short attention span, as most of the court did. Lance just had to keep the two troublemaking alphas out of Joaquín’s hands until his thoughts moved elsewhere.

“Florona!” Lance called, and she hurried over to him. “I’ll take them both. See that they’re prepared for this evening.”

“Both!” Yoelvis laughed. “I can’t tell if you’re insatiable or evil for picking the mated pair.”

“I hope they are thoroughly washed,” Celia muttered.

“Perhaps wash them a few times,” Joaquín called to Florona. “It looks as if the filth is ingrained into their very skin.”

The smaller alpha twitched, his need to be angry and indignant breaking through the hazy state Lance had placed him in. His mate looked concerned but also fuzzy around the edges, drunk on the scent spilling over to him as well. Lance could only hope that the larger alpha had some kind of control over the smaller so that they wouldn’t cause trouble.

Lance thanked Overseer Iverson for his time before giving a short speech to the gathered alphas about how their work was beneficial to not only city and the palace but the country itself. He hoped that would leave them feeling good despite not being selected for a night with him. Perhaps he’d return at some point to choose another. Maybe that time he’d make it out of the palace without his plans being found out.

What does an omega have to do to get some stress-free, rough sex around here?

꧁___꧂

Keith had always been poor, living on the streets as an orphan, stealing food when he had to, taking horrible jobs just to get enough coin to survive. It was all he had ever known. Meeting Shiro had been life-changing. Keith was invited into Shiro’s home, fed, cared for, and aided in finding a real and stable job. Shiro had been a beacon of hope, and despite their relative poverty, Keith couldn’t ask for anything more than that.

So being taken to the palace was an experience that his mind didn’t quite know how to handle. He’d never seen such wealth and opulence on full display. Frankly, it turned his stomach. All the money these royals had was spent on useless decorations while street orphans starved and died sleeping in gutters. It caused Keith to instantly hate everyone he saw. They seemed taken aback by his sullen scowl. Good. He didn’t want them to _ever_ get the impression that he worshiped them like they seemed to believe they deserved.

His opinion of the palace only got worse as he and Shiro were led to a large bathing chamber, stripped, and scrubbed down by unabashed servants. The guards scowled every time Keith indignantly moved away from someone trying to wash someplace they didn’t need to be touching. Shiro, somehow, managed to stay calm and placid through it all, helping to keep Keith’s indignation from boiling over.

After that, it only continued to get worse. Servants cleaned and oiled places that had Keith growling. A few servants backed away in alarm, but most of them lectured him to be grateful that he was chosen by the great omega third prince. Keith wanted to tell him where they could shove the third prince but a look from Shiro shut him up.

Shiro wasn’t even mad. His face was instead worried, afraid that Keith would get himself punished and locked up for insulting royalty. So, Keith bit his tongue and suffered through the not so relaxing massage, pampering, and scented oils. He couldn’t afford to be taken away, leaving Shiro and that damned omega alone. The thought of it had Keith’s possessive anger rolling off of him in waves. The servants kept trying to fan the smell of it from the room.

Once they were deemed suitably clean, they were moved to other stations where face paint resided. Keith gritted his teeth and gripped the ledge of the stool he sat on in a white-knuckled grip. He only barely managed to not fight his way out of all the dabs and brushes of things that darkened his eyelids, lashes, and lips. They even applied some to his nipples and striped bits of gold pigment through his hair. His breath was coming too fast and the servants were wary of him.

“Keith,” Shiro whispered.

Looking over, Keith found Shiro’s hand held out and waiting. He took it and pulled what comfort it provided as the servants continued to dress them up in jewelry and rich silks draped artfully around their shoulders and waists. There was a debate happening over Shiro’s right arm, but in the end, they wrapped it in strips of silk, held in place by a few golden cuffs.

Keith hated it. How dare they cover Shiro as if his arm was somehow offensive to them! The prince had picked Shiro, so obviously it wasn’t as if it mattered. Or maybe it did. The other nobles had called the prince’s actions charity. Perhaps the prince thought he was being kind by choosing someone he thought nobody would ever want.

That only served to make Keith hate the prince even more.

At long last, they were escorted out of the bathing chamber and to the prince’s personal suite. Everything was open and airy, large windows welcoming the sea breeze and piles of pillows were practically everywhere. There was a room set off to itself that they were taken to. It was enclosed with only a single door and a few narrow and intricately grated windows. The setting was of plush intimacy, draped with jewel-toned silks and scattered with pillows, lounging benches, and a bed. The faint smell of incense lingered in the air.

They were settled into the middle of the room on kneeling cushions. The servants arranged them just so, tutting and lecturing on how to properly bow before nobility. Keith didn’t see the point. They were just there to be fucked. What did it matter if their technique in obeisance wasn’t up to par?

That thought only reminded Keith of what was about to happen. That stupid, pompous prince was about avail himself of their bodies. He was going to use Shiro. He was going to use Keith. Who knew what was going to happen? Would Keith be forced to watch as Shiro’s willpower was lost to the omega’s scent? Would Keith survive witnessing Shiro mindlessly fuck someone else?

Or maybe the prince had perversions. Perhaps he wanted to mount low-class alphas and send them back afterwards so that the court wouldn’t find out about it. What if Shiro was ordered to hold Keith down as the prince forced his way inside—

“Shhh.” Shiro broke his pose and reached over to grip Keith’s hand. “You’re thinking too much again.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” Keith rasped.

“It’s alright. I’m right here. We’re going to be okay.”

Keith sucked in a breath, and it quavered. His anger was tapering out, and in its place was fear. He was powerless here, completely out of control of his own fate. But in the face of an omega? He’d be out of control of his own will as well.

His mind flashed back to the mill when the prince had done something, filling the air with the fresh scent of water and a hint of something cloying. It had shut Keith’s mind down in a matter of seconds, his senses fogging and body reacting. All he had desired in that moment was the omega. He wanted to feel the omega’s skin, bury his nose into the scent glands, leave marks over every inch of the tall, tanned body — claim the omega, fill the omega, worship the omega.

Keith felt sick.

“Hey, look at me,” Shiro’s soft voice coaxed. Keith struggled to rip his eyes up from the floor and turn to look at his mate. “We’ve been through a lot worse than this, right?”

Keith swallowed hard. “Sure.”

“It’s just one night. That’s all it is. We’ll be forgotten in an instant afterwards.”

“How are you fine with all of this?” Keith accused, frustrated with being the only one of the verge of panic.

“I’m not, but playing along keeps us safe. All I want to do is keep you safe.”

“I know that.” Keith closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. “I want to protect you, too.” It was more than just their alpha instincts. They loved each other and would do anything to care for one another. Whatever the stupid royals might think, alpha/alpha relationships were always that way — caring, loyal, and devoted.

Too devoted to be having sex with some random person, omega or not.

The door clacked and they jerked back into their positions. The prince entered with a flourish, a skimpy, thin robe fluttered around him in a cloud of blue. He was unaccompanied by guards. Apparently, they believed the prince capable of taking care of himself. Keith made a mental note of that.

“Hello, boys!” the prince greeted. He was smiling and completely at ease, a glass of wine perched in one hand as he dropped himself onto a carved, mahogany divan. “Welcome to my pleasure room!”

Keith felt his nose crinkle in disgust at the name. Did royals really have a room dedicated only to that? Now that he was aware of it, the faint scent of sex lingered under the incense, which was likely why it was burning, trying to drown out the smell of countless other bed partners. Keith wondered how many other helpless alphas had been dragged against their will into this room and forced to pleasure the spoiled prince.

Said prince made an odd sound. Keith flicked his gaze up to see dark blue eyes assessing him. “Sooo,” crooned the prince as he leaned back into the cushions. “What are your names?”

“You don’t even know our _names_?” The indignant question was out of Keith’s mouth before he could stop himself. Shiro made a panicked noise, and Keith dropped his eyes back to the floor, sealing his lips shut. His mouth had always gotten him in trouble.

“Keith Kogane and Takashi Shirogane,” the prince said, sounding a bit indignant. “My butler received the information from your overseer, but I thought we could get to know each other.”

“Forgive us, my prince,” Shiro said, bowing a little lower. “My name is Shiro, and this is my mate, Keith.”

“You can call me Lance!” The prince sounded happier in an instant. “As long as we’re inside this room, I’d prefer to keep things casual between us, so sit up, sit up!”

The two of them moved with caution, sitting back on their heels and looking up at the prince. Keith found the insistence of idle chatter to be pointless. It wouldn’t change the outcome. Whatever showed on his face, it caused the prince to frown. Miraculously, however, it wasn’t commented on.

Swinging his attention to Shiro, Lance asked with a bright smile, “So how long have you two been together?”

“Almost four years now, my p—”

“Ah, ah!”

“...Lance.” Shiro looked incredibly uncomfortable having to say it, like he was expecting punishment at any moment for daring to be so casual with the third prince.

“That’s so sweet! I love a good love story. How did you two meet?” Lance curled his feet under him, his face the picture of rapt attention.

Shiro faltered, but before he could think of where to start or what to say, Keith’s mouth was getting away from him again. “Why does it matter? That’s not why we’re here, is it?”

A flash of annoyance crossed Lance’s face, but he smoothed it out with a noncommittal hum. “Did an omega kick your puppy as a kid, Keith?”

Gritting his teeth, Keith growled out, “Not much of a chance for pets when you’re living on the streets.”

Lance took a sip of his wine, keeping eye contact with the scowling Keith. Shiro opened his mouth to either diffuse the situation, apologize, or scold Keith, but Lance spoke first. “Phoenicia and Ombrii have long been at war with one another. I imagine it was difficult for you, having both their blood in your veins.”

Keith gaped. How had Lance even known that?

“My butler does a thorough check on all alphas before I bring them to my rooms,” Lance answered the unspoken question with a self-satisfied smirk. “You have a record for being a hot head, you know.”

“Forgive me for not being a paragon of sunshine after the shit I’ve been through!”

“Keith!” Shiro snapped. His anxiety floated in the air, and they could all smell it. As much as Keith couldn’t care less where his loose tongue landed him, he didn’t want to drag Shiro down with him. Dropping his eyes once more, Keith fell back into silence.

“And you don’t see being with an omega, particularly a prince while surrounded in luxury, as any kind of high point in your life?” Lance tried to sound flippant about it, but it was obvious he was pouting.

Keith didn’t really understand that reaction. Insulted, annoyed, angry, those were all emotions he expected from the prince. The slight hint of hurt that rode along the currents of incense wasn’t something that Keith would have predicted. What did the opinions of two lowly alphas matter to a prince?

“We are very honored to be in your presence,” Shiro jumped in. “This is certainly a gift to those of us who would never encounter an omega otherwise.” Once Lance was preening under the validation, Shiro continued. “Mated alphas can be very possessive, that’s all. It’s instinct, and it can set us on edge.”

“And you’ve had no training!” Lance supplied, relaxing into the explanation he was being given. “Of course, of course. Well, it’s alright. I can wash those instincts away with just a bit of my scent—”

Keith was growling, that was why they had stopped talking. Even though he realized that, he couldn’t stop. He hated the idea of being controlled, his choices ripped from him in the face of Lance’s scent. Lance seemed to think it was something to be enjoyed, the mind-numbing control and overwhelming desire to rut. Perhaps he was taught that it was. Not that it mattered to Keith. Every nerve in his body was telling him to fight and run, heedless of the consequences.

Shiro was suddenly in Keith’s space, pressing their foreheads together and running a soothing hand over all the skin he could reach. Keith breathed deep, letting Shiro’s scent relax him and push back the impending panic. It would be okay. Shiro was there, so it would be okay.

“I like that,” Lance abruptly stated. He waved his glass at them. “Keep doing that. Make love to each other!”

Keith didn’t want to. He didn’t want an audience for his and Shiro’s intimacy. More than that, he didn’t think anything could get him in the mood at the moment. The thick scent of omega was suspiciously missing, and Lance’s face was guarded with a casual smile. Keith couldn’t figure out what it was that the prince was thinking.

While Keith froze with uncertainty, Shiro continued to move, having the better survival instincts between the two of them. His lips pressed against Keith’s jaw in trailing kisses that Keith always loved. He didn’t want that right now, however. He just wanted out — out of this room, out of the palace, away from whatever the hell was happening.

“Focus on me,” Shiro murmured, his warm hand cupping Keith’s face. “I’m the only one here. Just you and me.”

Keith closed his eyes and tried to stop his mind from racing. He could do this. Shiro’s smell, Shiro’s presence, Shiro’s skin… _Just focus on Shiro._ Lips brushed his own, and he opened to the kiss, letting Shiro’s soft tongue slide along his. _Shiro’s taste._

With his right arm, Shiro pushed the loose silk off one of Keith’s shoulders. His teeth trailed along it, nipping and suckling. Keith focused on his breathing and the sensation along his skin. Shiro’s hand was sliding up his stomach and scratching at his sides. He was enveloped in Shiro, safe and warm. Nothing bad would happen so long as Keith was in his mate’s arms.

On that thought, Keith lifted his hands and slid them under the hanging silks to touch Shiro. Scars littered Shiro’s chest, and Keith’s fingers trailed along each one reverently. They felt different, soft and smooth compared to everything else. Keith liked it. He liked running his tongue over them and sucking tiny bruises in the middle of them. Leaning forward, Keith’s mouth found the scar on Shiro’s shoulder out of habit and mouthed at it.

Little by little, they fell into their normal rhythm. Gentle touches and slow loving kisses turned heated and more eager. There was a little more teeth against flesh, a little more strength in their grasping hands. Keith kept his eyes resolutely shut, pushing his audience to the back of his mind. Right now, all that mattered was Shiro.

Getting frustrated at the silks, Keith yanked them off and tossed them aside. He shuffled forward so that he could sit between Shiro’s knees, pulling them together for more skin on skin contact as they melted into a mind-numbing kiss. The smell of their arousal filled the air, spurring them on. It hung like a curtain of protection around them. Just them. Just their smell. Just their desire.

Shiro’s cock was hard, and Keith noticed when it bobbed against his stomach. He reached down and palmed it, a thrill running up his spine when Shiro’s moan poured into his mouth. Keith let his fingers tease, giving just enough to have precum oozing from the tip but not enough to satisfy. It always left Shiro squirming with need, little noises of annoyance and desperation humming in his throat at random. Keith fed off of that, and it sent his arousal spiraling out of control, a soft growl building in his throat.

At last, Shiro broke. “Keith, _please_.”

Keith loved it when Shiro begged — craved it, in fact. But he wasn’t one to leave Shiro waiting. Possibly because Keith couldn’t wait either. Surging forward, Keith shoved Shiro onto his back. Keith’s eyes fluttered open and was greeted to the sight of Shiro sinking into plush cushions, his face flushed with need, pupils blown with arousal.

“Mine,” Keith growled, gipping Shiro’s thighs and shoving them forward.

“Yours,” Shiro agreed, his hand gripping the base of Keith’s neck.

It was a good thing Shiro had already been oiled and prepared. When Keith was so far gone, it was a struggle to hold back. And at the moment, holding back meant breaking his concentration. No, he needed to stay in the moment — stay drowning in Shiro.

They had been together a long time, and Shiro was more than adept at relaxing and opening himself up. He needed no patient stretching from Keith’s fingers. So Keith simply lined himself up and steadily pushed in, watching as Shiro’s face warped through so many emotions as he was filled. Keith trembled with restraint until he saw Shiro’s small nod, allowing him to move.

“Ah!” Shiro’s face was a work of art, blissed out and desperate all at once. “Yes. Like that. More!”

Keith growled, picking up his pace and enjoying the smooth glide and tight heat of Shiro’s ass. Liquid fire settled in his gut, blooming outward. His mind was hazy with the faint hint of rut. He never fell fully into rut. It was normally impossible without an omega’s pheromones to help it along. Usually, it was just a niggling of something in the back of his mind, spreading urgency and prickling pleasure through his system.

But it was different this time. It felt stronger, caused his mind to waver hazily and his body to tingle with the need to _claim, mark, fill._ He blinked, and it felt a little too slow. He took a deep breath and smelled himself and Shiro, strong alpha musk combined with sweat and floral perfumes. Underneath it all was something else, something that made his mouth water and his nerves scream — something that caused his head to swim and his knot to swell.

Lifting his gaze, Keith’s eyes dragged up to the figure still curled up on the divan, watching them. Lance had his wine glass curled into his shoulder as his other hand was pressed to his chest, fingers trailing mindlessly along his own skin. Lance’s cheeks were flushed, eyes wide, lips parted just slightly, a faint dusting of pink along his cheeks and sternum.

Dark blue eyes locked with Keith’s, showing the entranced arousal swimming in them. Lance was very, _very_ interested in their show. His body was practically humming with desire. It made Keith irrationally possessive. Angling his hips, he pounded into Shiro in the way he knew would be just this side of too much.

As expected, Shiro threw his head back, fingers digging into Keith’s skin, body writhing from where it was viciously impaled on Keith’s cock again and again. Keith pulled back his lips and snarled at the omega, chest rumbling with a constant growl. The only person that should be looking at _his_ mate like that was _him._

“Mine!” Keith snapped, his voice low and gravelly.

The blatant threat didn’t phase Lance. In fact, he seemed to get off on it. A soft purr could be heard under the repetitive _slap-slap-slap_ of skin. The smell of needy omega spiked and Keith’s vision blurred on the edges, his mind slipping further away from him. Desperate pleasure filled him up to the point his skin felt ready to burst from it. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

“Keith!”

It looked like he wasn’t the only one noticing the effects. Shiro was wrecked already, eyes unfocused and body jerking with the force of Keith’s hips. His right arm braced itself against the pillows, trying to find the leverage to push back, as if he couldn’t get enough. Keith understood the feeling. He wanted them so close together that they merged into one another.

Falling forward, Keith attempted it, pressing their chests and stomachs together as tight as possible. Arms wrapped around Shiro’s shoulders while legs wrapped around Keith’s hips. Slick skin made it easy to glide against one another, allowing Keith’s hips to continue their desperate movement, all rhythm lost to the heady cloud of sex that they breathed.

Keith’s knot swelled bigger than it ever had before. It pressed against Shiro’s hole with urgency, and Shiro, damn him, was begging for it. They couldn’t. Shiro would get hurt. The few times they had let Keith knot, it had been slow and careful with Shiro still being a bit sore the next day. As they were now, it could be dangerous for Shiro.

So Keith, with what little sense of self he had cutting through the drunken haze on a wave of concern for his mate, reached down and gripped his own knot tight to prevent it from slipping in. The feeling of his knot being squeezed in his tense grip was enough to make him whine. For whatever reason, that was the tipping point for Shiro. He tensed up and came to the pressure of their stomachs grinding against his cock and the feeling of Keith slamming deep inside of him. Shiro’s face was a work of art, and Keith never failed to fly right to the edge whenever he saw it.

Only moments later, Keith was spilling his seed inside of Shiro and filling his mate had never felt so good. He sank his teeth into Shiro’s neck, and they both moaned and shivered at the feeling of it. Keith’s grip on his knot never loosened as wave after wave of pleasure rushed through his system. His body simply rejected the idea of losing that feeling of tightness. So Keith stayed where he was, buried in his mate, gripping his knot, teeth sunk into flesh, and air rushing fast and quick through his nose.

They lay there in a haze for who knew how long. Keith felt like he could stay there forever. That peaceful moment of floating bliss and lingering pleasure that happened after orgasm seemed extended somehow. Time melted away from them. Keith only stirred when the ache in his jaw finally pierced through the mind-numbing contentment.

Releasing his teeth, he licked at the indents in Shiro’s skin, tasting just the slightest hint of copper tang. Shiro shivered and turned his head to gaze at Keith with a look of pure adoration. How could Keith not kiss him for that? It was a slow and sensual thing, mouthing at each other languidly, just relishing the taste of one another. Keith’s chest ached with affection.

Movement startled them both. They looked over to see Lance abruptly stand up, eyes still wide and cock very obviously tenting his robe. Keith tensed, unsure of what was about to happen and horrifically upset at the thought of his and Shiro’s cuddling routine being taken from them.

But nothing could have prepared Keith for what the prince actually did.

“Oh, boy! Look at the time! I’m so tired. Must be the wine,” Lance rambled rapid-fire before chugging the rest of said wine from his glass, which was still mostly full, and tossing the empty container back onto the divan. “Well! You two worked hard. Stay here, use anything you like. Florona will give you the pay you missed from your jobs in the morning. I’m off to bed. Bye!”

Without pause, Lance bolted from the room and shut them inside, escaping deeper into his suite. Keith blinked after him. Wasn’t the whole point of choosing an alpha to… fuck the alpha? Why had Lance gone so out of his way to choose them both only to not even touch them?

“What the hell?” Keith blurted.

It wasn’t like he was disappointed. He didn’t _want_ to fuck some random stranger in front of his mate, be they an omega prince or not. But he preferred knowing what was happening and what people were thinking and planning about his person. Lance just… didn’t _fit_ into any of Keith’s expectations.

Shiro's calloused thumb brushed along Keith’s cheek, catching his attention. He looked back to see a soft and slightly amused smile on Shiro’s lips. “You know… I don’t think he’s all that bad of a person. Maybe just a little misguided.”

Keith frowned and shoved his face into Shiro’s neck, relaxing against the larger man’s bulk. “I don’t like him,” Keith mumbled, aware of how petulant it sounded.

Shiro rubbed his hand up and down Keith’s back. “It’s okay. We’ll likely never see him again after tonight.”

“I hope not…” Keith shuffled his hips, trying to find a more comfortable position without having to slip out, despite his softening erection. Shiro sucked in a breath in response before they settled down once more.

“I love you,” Keith whispered.

Shiro pressed a kiss to Keith’s hair. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I have spoken to this artist, discussed this with them, have permission from them to show this picture, have permission to talk about this picture, have permission to note and link to the artist who drew it, and am in continuous contact with this artist. Thank you.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In news that surprises no one, I'm impatient. So here's the next chapter.

Lance had spent most of the night jerking off, telling himself over and over that he couldn’t call for another alpha. It would be weird. Why ask for another alpha when he already had two in the pleasure room and had barely been in there long enough to have a decent romp? Florona would get that _look_ on her face, the one that said Lance’s poor decisions had come to bite him in the ass. Lance had no desire to see that look.

So instead, he used his hands to seek an unsatisfying amount of pleasure as he thought about the two alphas he had run out on. They had been so _hot._ Was that what sex was like when mated? Or maybe it was just because they didn’t stop to worry about hurting each other. They had scratched, bit, and sucked bruises everywhere. It was all Lance had ever craved.

It had taken everything in his power not to jump in the middle of them. The urge had been so strong that he felt his normally ironclad control slipping. But, of course, he couldn’t. They hadn’t wanted it. Keith’s actions were blatant enough, but even Shiro had smelled anxious and hesitant. They were only interested in each other. Lance wasn’t about to ruin their relationship by forcing them into something.

Thus, he had fled the room like some teenager in his first pre-heat. _Man_ , that had been embarrassing. Maybe they hadn’t noticed. After all, they’d been pretty wrapped up in each other. Florona had seen to their compensation and had them escorted from the palace early that morning. The first chance Lance had, he made a beeline for Hunk’s chambers and with little preamble, rode the alpha into the bedsheets.

“Not that I’m complaining or anything,” Hunk panted from where he was sprawled on his back with a sated Lance curled up on his chest. “But what was that?”

“Mmm… I was a little pent up.”

“Pent up? Didn’t you have two alphas in your room last night?” Hunk tried to make it a joke, but there was an underlying current of hurt in his tone.

Lance sighed. “That was supposed to be a secret. How many people know about it?”

“Joaquín was running his mouth last night in the training area.”

“Ugh. I’m gonna end up strangling him.”

Hunk gave Lance’s shoulder a consoling pat. “So I guess the working class doesn’t satisfy?” The hopeful note in Hunk’s voice did not go unnoticed.

“You know you’re amazing in bed, Hunk. Seriously, how long have we been doing this?” Lance trailed his fingers along the patterns of tattoos that covered Hunk’s stomach and ribs.

“I mean… you’d tell me if there was something you didn’t like or wanted to try, right? I just… I’m worried about you. Untrained alphas aren’t safe. I’ve _been_ an untrained alpha. I remember how hard it was those first few times.”

“That’s kinda the point,” Lance muttered, aware of how sulky he sounded.

“Are you saying you _want_ to get hurt?” Hunk sounded scandalized.

“No! I just wanted a little _oomf_ to it. Some biting and hickies and all that.” Lance thought about the marks the two alphas had left on each other. What he would give to be able to feel that himself.

“Isn’t that just an urge to be bond marked?” Hunk had a face that said, _it’s okay to just admit it._

“Not _there_!” Lance pouted and slapped a hand over the scent gland on his neck. “There’s plenty of places to bite.”

“There’s also safer ways to get bitten than by some half-crazed alpha who has scented an omega for the first time in their life.”

“Ugh! Okay, _mom._ You win. No fun stuff for me.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t have fun!” Hunk bounced his shoulder, and Lance’s head bounced with it. “I’m saying you could ask me.”

Lance did his best to hide his wince. Hunk was _way_ too nice to be able to offer what Lance was craving. It wasn’t that sex with Hunk wasn’t great, it was, but Hunk had very specific skills that didn’t necessarily line up with all of Lance’s cravings. Still, they’d been friends for a long time, and Lance knew that Hunk would be overly upset at not being able to “do the job he was trained for so long to do.”

“Sure!” Lance said with false cheer. “I should have just asked you in the first place.”

Hunk beamed. That smile was worth the white lie on Lance’s part. In the end, Lance really did want to make Hunk happy. They were best friends, and in a political world where Lance could never fully believe people’s words or actions, Hunk was a safe haven. Lance trusted Hunk implicitly, and he never wanted to do anything that would jeopardize that.

To Hunk’s credit, he did try. However, they both knew that leaving a mark on Lance was forbidden. So other than some focused role-playing, Hunk showing off his strength by tossing Lance around, and a small, barely-there hickey high on Lance’s thigh, it wasn’t much different than normal. Hunk had looked so nervous and uncomfortable afterwards that Lance rolled over into a bit more of his own acting.

“You know what?” Lance asked as he curled into Hunk’s side. “You were right. What I really need is just your regular amazing lovemaking. Nothing else compares.”

Hunk visibly relaxed, a relieved grin stretching his face as he cuddled Lance close. “I’m here for whatever you need me for.”

“I know.”

Lance did know that, but there were just some things Hunk couldn’t provide. Of course, it seemed there were some things Lance would never have the opportunity to experience. Perhaps he should listen to his _abuela_ and let it go. He just needed to distract himself so he’d stop thinking about the two alphas and the amazing sex they’d had.

Yep. Just needed to put it from his mind and go back to normal.

Boring, safe normal.

As the weeks passed, life returned to its regular pace at the palace. He’d become so adept at sidestepping political issues and keeping power-hungry nobles at the perfect distance, that it offered no distraction. He escaped whenever he could to have fun and suffered through boring meetings when successfully trapped. His mind wandered, and it wandered to a certain alpha pair that had offered something new and different to his life.

Even if one of those alphas fanned his annoyance every time he thought about it, dragging him away from daily monotony to the frustrating and contrary puzzle of a slim-built alpha.

Stupid _Keith._ How could one person be so rude? Lance had been nothing but nice! He had saved them from Joaquín’s scheming, pampered them, fed them, dressed them in the finest silks, and paid them for a night of luxury. He had also been considerate of their bond!

What was Keith’s problem? Even Shiro was nice about it, trying so hard to be friendly and keep Keith calm. Poor Shiro must be overworked, living with an alpha like Keith. Did Shiro ever get a chance to top? Lance was pretty certain of that answer. Keith was too full of himself to stick his ass up for anyone.

How rude.

After everything poor Shiro put up with and Keith couldn’t let go of control long enough to trust his partner? That was just unfair. And rude — emphasis on rude. Shiro deserved better.

More than that, Keith deserved to be taken down a peg.

“Florona!” Lance called from where he sat on a window ledge overlooking the city, his fingers sticky from the papaya he’d filched from the royal garden. He couldn’t see the sugar mill that he’d previously visited from here, as it was lost behind the mass of multicolored buildings that spread across the gentle hills. That didn’t stop him from pretending that he could, sucking the juice from his fingers and imagining it was the sweet taste of pure cane scented with musky alpha.

“Yes, my prince,” came Florona’s melodic voice as she stepped up and bowed shortly. Every bit of her was perfectly arranged including her long, free-flowing hair, which was something Lance had no idea how she accomplished with all the wind the palace captured.

“You remember those two alphas from last month?”

Her lips twitched downward in disapproval, but that was all the reaction she cared to have. Ultimately, Lance would do what he wanted, so she found no point in arguing. “Of course, my prince.”

Lance grinned as he popped the last piece of papaya into his mouth and hopped down from the window sill with a dramatic flourish of his robes. “I have the best idea!”

꧁___꧂

Shiro braced the bundle of sugarcane securely in his arms before heading off to deliver them to those that worked the mill. Sweat trickled down his back, his hair already damp and dripping with it. He’d abandoned his shirt long ago, the rising sun unrelenting on this particularly hot day. At least the sea breezes helped to keep things moderately tolerable, though that meant their mid-day break from the heat wouldn’t be as long as everyone would prefer.

Despite that, Shiro couldn’t say that he hated this work. He was broad and sturdy, which made him perfect for manual labor. The missing third of his arm didn’t stop him from doing honest hard work here, as he was able to balance the strips of cane by simply bending his right arm against the bundle. In a way, it made him beyond happy to know that there were no limitations to what he could manage in his life, no matter the setbacks.

In his darker moments, he felt an old bitterness creep up on him whenever it felt his mind was languishing. His parents had come to this country in hopes of providing him a better life, one that wasn’t bound by a family history of poverty and servitude. They’d worked themselves to the bone to give him a proper education and a life they’d never have.

But fate had other plans.

He shook his head to dispel the painful past, focusing on the work around him. It was mind-numbing, constant exertion, but sometimes that was a nice respite from his own meandering thoughts. He traded idle chatter with those around him before returning for another bundle of cane to haul. His eyes were peeled to catch sight of Keith, though it would be a rare sight indeed. The two of them worked on opposite ends of the mill, though they usually met up for mid-day break, as most couples did.

“Rumor has it,” Adam grunted as he tossed cane from the back of a wagon onto the ground, “Old Oyster Lady has a new kid working for her. We might start getting deliveries again!” He flashed a bright smile at the idea which Shiro returned.

“I haven’t taken a trip to the docks in a while. Now I’m missing those oysters. If the kid doesn’t show, I’m blaming you for my disappointment.”

Adam laughed. “Well, at least we can always…” His voice trailed off as he stood, eyes focusing on something in the distance.

Shiro turned to see three palace guards approaching the mill. His stomach fluttered with nervousness, but he squashed the feeling. It had been a month since the day they’d been taken to the palace, and the third prince had shown no further interest. Keith occasionally fretted over it, though Shiro hadn’t been so concerned. He didn’t believe that anything would come of it, trusting in his gut instinct that the prince wasn’t as bad of a person as Keith constantly insisted.

Surely the guards were there for someone else, or maybe they were delivering something to Iverson. After all, the sugar mills were major exports for the country, so there would be plenty of contact between them and the palace. Shiro forced himself to take a calming breath and think rationally.

It almost worked — right up until one guard broke off to speak with Iverson in the distance while two others headed straight for him. His stomach dropped to his toes. He looked around frantically for Keith but saw no sign of him. Well, at least Keith wouldn’t be dragged into this, letting his mouth run away until he was put in the stocks or lashed for insolence.

“Takashi Shirogane,” one of the guards said as they stopped before him. “Your presence at the palace is requested.”

Everyone nearby was gawking at him, some in shock, some in pity, but most with jealousy. He couldn’t entirely blame them. For those unmated, a chance to have a tumble in bed with an omega while surrounded in luxury was something to strive for. Even Shiro could admit that there was something thrilling to being able to see the palace in all its glory, though he would certainly never admit that to Keith.

Shiro bowed slightly and allowed the two betas to lead him away, sharing a single nervous look between Adam. Hopefully, the man would keep Keith from attempting to storm the palace later once word got out that Shiro had been taken. So long as Keith was safe, Shiro was willing to suffer through anything.

The walk to the palace was always such a strange experience. They moved from the mill to the crowded buildings and bustling streets all splashed with vibrant colors and filled with the smell of vendors ready to serve lunch and preparing for dinner. As they traveled along the busy cobblestone roads, they worked their way higher and higher, the buildings thinning out to allow for lawns or grand entrances to shops. Higher still were the sprawling haciendas of the rich, filled with gardens and elaborate fountains, many with dedicated farmland set nearby for family businesses.

Atop it all was the glowing white beacon of the palace.

Once inside the tall gates, there was nothing but elegance. The lawns were perfectly maintained, the various flowering bushes were lush with blooms, and all stonework was kept scrubbed clean. The sun reflecting off of all that white made the palace grounds seem brighter, as if it was blessed by the sun and sky. The people living there surely thought themselves above others if their curious and scandalized looks to Shiro were anything to go by.

Mild-mannered, clean, and dressed in silks, the aristocracy found a low-born alpha to be quite the scandal. They stared openly at him, whispering behind their fans, or blatantly showing disgust on their faces. A few of them, however, looked at Shiro as if he were a meal to be devoured. He wasn’t sure which group he’d prefer to be in attendance to. Thankfully, they moved away from all of the gawkers and into the palace itself. Shiro’s destination was farther along, it seemed.

He was delivered to the bathing chambers once more, still overwhelming yet uncomfortably familiar. All those involved with his care appeared to be relieved that it was only him and not his growling, snapping alpha mate. Shiro allowed them to manhandle him without complaint as he thought about Keith and prayed the man was alright.

Of course, Keith would likely scold Shiro for thinking of his mate rather than his own circumstances, but it was a good enough distraction from everything around him and the constant nagging worry about what would happen next.

His final destination was at a large, ornate door that he recognized. Sure enough, when the doors opened, there were familiar rooms beyond. He was back in the third prince’s suite. It struck him as odd. The prince hadn’t acted all that interested in the two of them, choosing to leave them to their own devices rather than get in the way of their bond. So why was he back, alone, and in the prince’s personal chambers?

“You’re here!” a familiar voice called, accompanied by running footsteps. The guards paused in closing the doors and allowed their prince to enter. Shiro dropped to his knees immediately and bowed low. Neither of them spoke until the doors were firmly closed, leaving them in privacy. “Stand up, stand up!”

Shiro did so slowly as he attempted to keep the confusion from his expression. The prince’s bright grin turned cocky, as if he was reading Shiro’s concerns and found them misplaced.

“Don’t worry! You’re not in trouble. Most of the palace may not like me playing with wild alphas, but it’s my choice, and nobody should be taking it out on you.”

Even though Shiro did his best to keep his face respectfully downturned, his quirked eyebrow at the word “wild” was caught.

“Not saying that _you_ are wild!” The prince waved his hands frantically in front of him. “That is— I just—” He coughed to cut himself off and moved forward to wrap himself around Shiro’s right arm, seemingly taking no notice of its disfigurement. “Forget about everyone else. You’re here with only me!”

“And what is it that you wish from me, my prince?” Shiro asked in as pleasant a voice as he could muster.

“Ah-ah!” The prince scolded, shaking one finger.

“Uh… Lance.” Saying the prince’s name felt like dancing with danger, but there was an undeniable thrill to being allowed to speak something normally so forbidden.

Lance grinned, his entire face lighting up. Shiro took a moment to wonder if Lance missed the sound of his name, as likely only his direct family called him that, and even then, only in private. Perhaps Lance was lonely and simply wanted the company of those who would not have been trained all their lives in royal etiquette.

“I’ve been unable to stop thinking about you two,” Lance admitted as he pulled Shiro further into the room.

“Oh?”

“Yes! You see, you were perfectly polite and a joy to be around.”

“I appreciate you saying so, m— Lance.”

The prince hummed happily in response, his fingers trailing over Shiro’s skin. The smell of excited omega was filling the small space between them, causing Shiro to feel a touch lightheaded and giddy. A smile tugged at his lips as he relaxed into the casual grip that Lance had on his arm. It felt nice. Warm. Friendly.

“Now your mate, however…” Lance scrunched his nose in distaste. “So rude.”

Shiro chuckled. That was putting it mildly, though Keith’s prickly nature had never bothered him. That fire and tenacity was what had drawn him to Keith, and being the only one to see Keith’s soft and caring side was a thrill the alpha part of him greatly enjoyed.

Lance stopped and whirled so that they were facing one another. He placed his hands on his hips, bottom lip stuck out in a slight pout. “Is he like that with you, too? I bet he’s always trying to call the shots!”

“He prefers being in control.” Shiro didn’t mind it. That control allowed Keith to feel safe, and all big decisions were discussed and negotiated between them. It was a happy balance.

A wicked, playful grin spread across Lance’s face, causing his excitement to spike. “I have a surprise.” Shiro all but giggled, his mind reeling under the force of the omega’s emotions that hovered between them, held aloft on a cloud of natural fragrance.

“You smell like summer rain when the sun is still shining.”

Lance’s eyes widened, his cheeks tinting a charming pink. “You flirt.” A thread of nervous happiness wound through the smell coming from Lance. “Don’t distract me! I need to give you your gift.”

“My gift?” Shiro grinned, his whole body beginning to feel light and euphoric.

Lance whirled around, robes dancing around him like flower petals, and pushed open the door behind him, a door Shiro was surprised to realize that he hadn’t noticed until Lance touched it. “Oh, that’s…” Shiro murmured, recognizing it as the pleasure room when the cushions and colors beyond were revealed.

Then everything stopped.

It felt like Shiro had been dropped into the cold currents of a stormy, winter sea, his head clearing instantly, adrenaline spiking. There on the bed was Keith, all four limbs cuffed and tied to the posts of the bed, a pillow propping up his hips to leave him in a forced presentation position. He was struggling wildly, his breathing coming too fast through his nose, his sobs and snarls muffled by the cloth in his mouth, and the blindfold on him soaked through with tears.

Shiro’s body moved instantly, shoving Lance aside and running to his mate, damning the consequences. The cuffs on Keith’s body were strong, but the ropes tying him to the posts were a sailor’s knot that Shiro recognized. He ripped at them, freeing Keith’s wrists before promptly having to catch one as his mate flailed and fought presumed attackers.

“It’s alright. It’s me,” Shiro soothed. He leaned forward and used his teeth to pull the blindfold over Keith’s head. “Look! Look! It’s me. I’m here.”

Keith squinted into the sudden light, trembling and shouting nonsense before his sight adjusted. The look of fear and desperation on his face was enough to make Shiro’s heart rend in two. He let go of Keith’s wrist to work on unbuckling the gag and helping to toss it away. Keith took in a shuddering gasp of breath.

“I can’t move!” he shouted, his feet kicking wildly and catching on the ropes.

“Shhh, I’ve got you. It’s just some rope. I’ll get you out. Can you hold still for me?”

Keith trembled and shook his head as he clung to Shiro, fingers and nails digging into Shiro’s back like the other alpha would disappear at any moment. Shiro carefully shuffled them around until he could tug at the ropes, running a soothing hand up and down Keith’s leg to allow him to do it. Before he could make it to the final knot, the rope went slack, and Keith scrambled into his lap, shaking like a leaf.

Shiro held onto his mate tightly, whispering soothing words and promises of safety. In the meantime, he looked up at the corner of the bed he hadn’t reached to see Lance standing there, one hand over his mouth, eyes wide with guilt and horror. The prince stumbled away from them, shaking as he dropped onto a divan on the other side of the room. The smell of stale water and remorse cut through the thick incense in the room.

“Focus on me,” Shiro whispered as he dropped loving kisses along Keith’s damp temple. “I’m right here. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“They held me down,” Keith choked out. “I couldn’t move!”

Keith’s fear and trauma poured from him in waves, heavy enough that it sat on Shiro’s tongue like the taste of acrid smoke. “You’re safe now,” Shiro promised.

He wanted to know if any of the people who had tied Keith up had taken liberties on him. Likely not, as they wouldn’t want to risk the ire of an omega prince, but Shiro wasn’t sure if Keith would be able to say one way or another. His past was still at the forefront of his mind, confusing the present with all that had happened before.

Shiro looked up once more to see the dawning realization in Lance’s eyes. Keith was slim, his frame smaller than most alphas, and his street orphan past was known to them both. In a world where impoverished alphas rarely managed to _see_ an omega or be in the presence of a beta, Keith was often regarded as the next best option. Whether Keith wanted it or not.

“I’m sorry.” Lance spoke the words so soft and haunted that Shiro barely heard them.

Keith twitched, as he was likely suddenly aware that there was another person in the room and that the world was bigger than the bubble of safety in Shiro’s arms. His lips pulled back in a near-silent snarl.

“You’re safe,” Shiro murmured into Keith’s mussed hair. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not alright,” Keith snapped, voice thick and rough but dripping venom nonetheless. He twisted just enough to glare over his shoulder at the prince. “What is _wrong_ with you?”

Shiro tensed, still uncertain about how far Keith’s biting comments could go before being punished for them. Lance sucked in a sharp breath and drew himself up, shaken and defensive all at once.

“W-well, you— You were so _mean._ Not just me, to Shiro! He’s an alpha, too, you know, but it looked like you just refused to let him satisfy his own instincts in lieu of yours, and— and—”

“You know _nothing_ about us,” Keith growled, his anger sparking, smelling like a lightning strike against sand.

The pieces fell into place for Shiro. Lance had never experienced fear when it came to sex. He was isolated and pampered, his sexual exploits considered a gift at best and an innocent game at worst. It was likely that he never considered the possibility of his guards taking advantage of Keith, or that Keith would have ever experienced sex as anything other than good fun. Which had led Lance to believe that Shiro was the one wronged in the relationship.

“I never feel neglected or overpowered,” Shiro said to Lance, though truly, he reassured both men. Keith was always fretting about needing Shiro’s submission despite them both knowing that there were few other options. “I feel safe and loved with my mate.”

Keith relaxed a little into Shiro’s chest while Lance looked away, the guilt on his face growing more obvious. “I’m sorry,” Lance said again. “I didn’t know…”

“You didn’t ask!” Keith bit out in return.

Lance puffed back up in anger. “Oh, yeah? Well, neither did you!”

Seemingly, the two of them were incapable of not arguing and grating against each other. Shiro closed his eyes for a moment and prayed for patience.

Keith spluttered in indignation, pulling away from Shiro to turn the brunt of his outrage on Lance. “Ask you _what_ , you spoiled little—”

“I didn’t even want to pick you two!” Lance cut in. He stood abruptly and began pacing the plush rug that sat in front of the divan. “I wanted that curvy alpha woman! And _she_ looked like she _wanted_ to have fun with me!”

“Then why didn’t you pick her—”

“Because of you!” Lance threw his hands into the air in frustration. “You called attention to yourself, and then Joaquín decided he wanted to teach you manners. You wouldn’t have been the first alpha to limp out of the palace because of him.”

Keith drew back, suddenly unsure and wary. “Why do you let him get away with that?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure. I’m a prince so I have magical powers that means everyone obeys me and nobody is ever out to murder me for the slightest insult.” He stopped walking and huffed. “The last time I tried to get rid of Joaquín, a young kitchen servant ‘ran away’ with a palace stable boy and they ‘tragically lost their lives in a storm.’ He made such a fuss about the ‘quality’ of our servants after that, half of them were dismissed, and he’s now apprenticing to be the next palace staffer.”

“You think he killed them,” Shiro said, voice soft in shock. Working at the palace sounded unnecessarily dangerous.

Lance crossed his arms and frowned, his eyes fixed on the decorative grates over the windows. “I have no proof. If it _was_ him, he covered it well. If it wasn’t, he’s just that good at taking advantage of a situation. My father insisted that something will be done if Joaquín takes things too far, but he’s never scarred, crippled, or killed the alphas that he requests, and he certainly doesn’t bed them, so my hands are tied.”

Keith shuddered. “Is he still looking for us?”

“What? No.” Lance shook his head and focused back on the two in the room, his annoyed frown directed at Keith once more. “He has a short memory for anything involving the lower class. I just had to get you out of the way until he moved on.”

“Then—”

“The point is!” Lance loudly interrupted. “You had to growl and snap like a guard dog in front of _royalty_ so that all eyes were on you. Even if I _had_ taken Shiro alone, if he said that he was mated, I wouldn’t have done anything!”

“How was I supposed to know that?” Keith demanded.

Lance scoffed and looked the picture of affronted. “Does my reputation mean _nothing_ to you?”

“I don’t care about the reputation of anyone living in a pampered nest when there are kids starving to death in the streets!”

“ _I’m_ the one that has seen to every orphanage built in the past ten years!” Lance shouted in return.

The two glared at each other, breathing heavy, their anger filling the room to choking. Despite the smell of it clawing at his nerves and demanding that he raise his hackles, Shiro was strangely calm about it. The conversation had been enlightening and assuaged Shiro’s fears of any real danger — at least, when in the company of the third prince. Lance was sheltered, naive, and taught to have an overabundance of self-importance, but he was genuinely trying to be a good person. He just needed a little guidance and perhaps some real-world experience.

“Not every alpha is going to find your selection of them as a good thing,” Shiro said, voice calm and patient. “Perhaps many will, but you won’t know who you would put into a bad situation until it’s too late. And, as an omega prince, there may be many that are too afraid to say no.”

Lance was stricken by Shiro’s words. He sat heavily onto the divan once more, shoulders curling in and hands dangling between his knees. “I was told all alphas wanted a night with an omega,” he said, the pout obvious in his voice.

“Phoenicians think all omegas are desperate to have as many kids as possible,” Keith argued, though at least his tone wasn’t _as_ loud and hostile as before.

Lance winced. It was likely that he had dealt with Phoenician dignitaries who had said as much to him. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. I messed up.” He ran a hand through his hair. “ _Abuela_ was right. She’s _always_ right.”

There was silence as they sat in the incense heavy room, surrounded by the various tang of mixed emotions that sat under the smoke. It was Keith who finally broke the silence as he wiggled himself into a more comfortable position in Shiro’s arms.

“So what now?”

Lance shrugged. “I planned to stay in my rooms for the rest of the day, so I’m not expected anywhere. Servants will deliver dinner.” He set one elbow on his thigh before propping his chin in his hand. “Anything you guys have ever wanted a chance to eat?”

“Oysters?” Shiro suggested.

Keith rolled his eyes. “We have oysters all the time.”

“But I like oysters.”

“We’re in a royal palace!” Keith argued, exasperated. “You could ask for Vaca Frita or something.”

Shiro smiled. “I suppose.” He was happy that Keith was distracted with the concept of fancy food rather than anything else that had happened.

“That settles it,” Lance said, slapping his hands on his thighs. “I’m ordering a round of Chef’s best dishes, and you are both going to try it all.” He held up a finger at Shiro before the alpha could speak. “Oysters included.”

“Don’t ruin me for oysters they sell along the docks,” Shiro playfully chided.

“Oh, I am _absolutely_ going to ruin you for all food ever.” He stood up and waved at them. “Come on, this room stinks and needs a good airing out. Let’s go to the balcony. Keith can point out people he thinks look annoying, and I’ll tell you all the juicy gossip about whoever it is.”

“Why am _I_ the bad guy?” Keith argued.

“Because you’re rude,” Lance replied flippantly. He walked over and handed Shiro a key. “For the cuffs.” He didn’t wait for a reply, just walked from the room and called someone’s name, likely a servant.

“I hate him,” Keith grumbled as Shiro set about unlocking the cuffs and rubbing at the reddened skin revealed on Keith’s slim wrists and ankles.

“I’m sure you can put up with him for a single night,” Shiro said. “I doubt we’ll see him again after this.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Keith muttered.

Shiro smiled. “Well, fate likes to prove me wrong often. Remember that time I thought you wouldn’t fall for me?”

Keith blushed and allowed himself to be pulled from the bed. “You’re just dense.”

“I suppose I am.” Shiro gave a soft chuckle.

They left the room, hand in hand, and spent the rest of the night in a strange sort of three-person party with a quirky prince, good food, and elaborate stories. Shiro imagined that in another life, the three of them could have been friends. He also believed that in this life, it would do Lance good to have friends outside of the palace.

But the world didn’t work like that. In the morning, they would return to their lives, the adventures of this day no more than a distant and tumultuous dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in consideration of my timeframe, I wanted to name foods that were more traditional, preferably pre-colonial. I also wanted furniture of the same manner. Come to find out, information on Cuba pre-colonial is practically nonexistant. What few articles I found were limited, many of them behind a paywall for more info. I don't know if the information to be found is better outside of American internet, but wow is almost all possible history eradicated from what sources I could find. Interestingly enough, jerk chicken is possibly the biggest thing to have survived colonialism in Cuba, which is facinating to me.
> 
> So as we move forward, I will be writing a strange mix of history for this. Though the houses will not be made of cement, they will be casted, though I decided not to go into whether they use wet or dry casting. Dry casting has been around since ancient Egypt, while wet casting has a long history of "who first had this idea?" Concrete is a form of wet casting, but it existed long before that specific mix was created.
> 
> Do you care about jerk chicken history and wet casting? Who knows! But I bet you care about how tiny [Cuban bee hummingbirds](https://live.staticflickr.com/279/32144886492_1a5c982b8e_b.jpg) are!


	3. Chapter 3

Lance didn’t request Keith and Shiro again, and he was only a little disappointed about that. He’d actually enjoyed himself quite a bit that night while spending time with them. They weren’t trying to manipulate him for their own gain, lie to him to curry favor, or lull him into a false sense of calm to stab him. It was refreshing and relaxing, the way it had only ever been with Hunk. It made him realize how much he really did want more friends he could trust.

However, keeping his distance kept them safe. In fact, the two of them had driven home a hard lesson that Lance had been reluctant to learn. He stopped seeking out commoner alphas to bed and stuck to those within the palace. Everyone was happy about it, especially his family and Hunk. The only one who had appeared miffed with the decision was Joaquín who had been denied his recent entertainment. He got over it quickly, though.

And so, months passed while Lance returned to his regular, monotonous life. He attended meetings, suffered through his courtiers not-so-subtle requests, argued with dignitaries when the rest of his family needed a break, and, whenever he could, snuck out to have a little fun. He supposed that his life wasn’t so bad at the moment. Despite a few trade agreements being stalled for the stubborn parties involved, things were going pretty smoothly and nobody had a reason to attempt a murder of anyone in the royal family.

It was downright peaceful.

The dry season was coming to an end soon, which meant that visitors to Ontillia would be heading out before the wet season’s storms began to pummel the islands. Lance wouldn’t miss the foreign dignitaries in the palace. They felt the time crunch weighing heavy on them, making them far more obstinate and argumentative than usual. It resulted in him seeking more and more distractions to get away from it all.

And a distraction he found in one Nyma Diaz.

Nyma was a pretty beta full of charm and wit, with a sweet smile, flowing hair, and an adventurous spirit. She was heir to her father’s hand-rolled cigar company, a family enterprise that had been gaining a lot of clout lately. All members of the Diaz family had a mind for business and handled themselves well, but Nyma was the only one who was not intimidated by royalty.

So, when Lance had expressed his interest, she had flirted back in kind. They spent time sneaking away to the gardens and teasing each other during luncheons. Things became heated during the grand fiesta held for Day of Allura — a celebration in honor of the first omega ruler of Ontillia. There had been much feasting and dancing, and it was the dancing that had sparks flying between Lance and Nyma.

“I’ve always wanted to dance with a prince,” Nyma teased as they took positions and the band began to play.

“Then tonight is your lucky night.” Lance puffed out his chest, oozing confidence, as he led them through the steps.

The ballroom was filled with people in bright outfits, elaborately detailed decorations, and candles set in sparkling holders. The entire room felt at once stifling and magical. Servants were lined along the edges of the room with large palm fans, airing out the scents of so many guests through the open windows. Flowers raced in trails along everything they could reach to make sure there was always something better to smell than the cacophony of so many tipsy betas and omegas.

Not that Lance wanted to mask Nyma’s scent. She smelled of rum and tobacco, the playful undercurrent she always had cut through it with a light citrus scent that balanced it well. It drew Lance’s eyes to her lips, wondering if she tasted as smooth and warm as her scent promised.

“I appreciate a man who doesn’t shy away from holding me close,” Nyma all but purred, pressing their bodies tighter together as they twirled through the steps.

“And I appreciate a woman who isn’t afraid of what she wants.”

She grinned. “Oh, I am certainly not. In fact, I would dare to invite you back to my hacienda.”

Lance’s eyebrow shot up, and he nearly missed a step. It had been a long time since anyone had said something so forthright and blatant to him, and it most certainly hadn’t come from a beta who held no official title. His eyes darted around to see if anyone had been within earshot to hear such a flagrant breach of conduct, but everyone was offering him a respectful distance, even if only because that made it easier to spy on him. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Nyma smirked, noticing Lance’s surprise and easily pulling them through the next steps, using his distraction to drop him into a dip, keeping her solidly in control of his body. “You said you’d like to see our trade secret in rolling the cigars.”

“You’re willing to share those secrets with the likes of me?” Lance raised an eyebrow, regaining his composure as he was lifted back up. He pressed into her body, taking the lead once more.

“For a man such as you, I’d be willing to teach you a few tricks.”

A man. Not a prince, not an omega, just him. Pleasure and excitement spiked in his chest, and he felt his emotions slip from his tight grasp on them and leak from his glands. Nyma took a deep breath as she extended her leg into a hold, her eyes sparkling at the smell.

“Do you think I’d be any good at it?” Lance asked, voice low and sultry. He clamped down on his arousal before it could grow any further. He couldn’t afford to cause a scene on the crowded dance floor by affecting those around him. He wouldn’t have been the first omega to nearly incite an orgy at a fiesta, but he had no urge to be part of such tales.

“Oh, I think that you could learn.” Nyma ended their dance with their faces close, one hand cupping the back of his head while the other cradled his lower back, her calf hooked around and caressing his thigh. “It takes… skillful finger work. Are you up to that challenge?”

Lance grinned wide. “I can’t wait.”

꧁___꧂

It was late and nearly half the palace was drunk by the time they made their escape. It wasn’t too hard to accomplish on such a big day. Even the heart of the city was still lit up and loud from celebration. The full moon overhead was bright enough that everything was bathed in a silver light, making it easy to navigate through the gardens of the palace, over the wall, and down through the empty, sprawling haciendas. Everyone of import was at the palace and all the servants were in the city. There were no eyes to see and rumor about the third prince’s continued dalliances.

Which was, of course, why this was the perfect opportunity to sneak away. He knew that it was dangerous to do so without his personal guards, but there was no need to worry this late at night on Day of Allura. It was a time for merriment and good will, and the morning would be a time to nurse hangovers and sleep the day away.

Or stay sprawled in the sheets with that night’s lover.

Lance and Nyma were breathless with giggles and their mad dash by the time they reached her hacienda. It was a small but still stately building near the western edge of the city, tobacco plants filling a narrow strip of farmland that trailed halfway down the city’s border. It was perfect placement for trustworthy workers to live nearby and still maintain good homes. The Diaz family paid well for those willing to put in the extra effort for their special cultivation techniques.

“Won’t there be a guard on duty?” Lance asked as the two of them circled around the house, grins on their faces as if they were kids ready to steal sweets from the kitchen.

“We’ll enter through the servant’s door,” Nyma replied in a whisper, tossing Lance a wink over her shoulder. “Besides, all our guards have likely drunk themselves into an early sleep by now.”

They darted through the small, nondescript door at the back of the house and raced up the narrow stairs, feet light on the creaking wood, and giggling madly at the thought of getting caught. Nobody showed themselves as they tumbled into Nyma’s room, closing the door a little too hard behind them in their haste. Riding high on their successful caper, they fell into each other’s arms, kissing hard enough to bruise while hands roamed all the places they hadn’t been bold enough to prior.

Nyma was impatient and tugged at Lance’s robes with abandon. It threw him off, as he had expected something a little more sensual between them given prior interactions, but he wasn’t against it. Perhaps Nyma was still too wound up from their run and the alcohol rushing through her and preferred a quick romp before slowing down and spending the night exploring one another. Lance could roll with that.

When he untied and pulled away her ruffled skirt, she scurried back with a laugh, crawling onto her bed with nothing but frilled underwear and the wrapped top of her outfit. When she crooked a finger at him, Lance immediately tried to give chase but stumbled in the bits of clothes still clinging to him. He cursed and pulled at them, hopping around as he yanked the rest of it off, Nyma’s laughter like bells in his ears the entire time.

Once free, he gave her a chastising look that appeared to have no effect. With a smirk, he stepped forward and—

Lance barely saw the dark figure move from behind the curtain before whoever it was collided into him. He went down hard, but he was trained for this. A solid elbow to the nose had his attacker reeling. He kicked out hard, multiple times, until he was able to wriggle free and hop to his feet.

A second dark clad person was already running at him. Looking around frantically, he noticed a small chair between him and the dressing table. He picked it up and whirled around in time to slam it into the person’s shoulder. Lance backed towards the door as the two unknown assailants attempted to recover.

There were probably more. There were always more.

Both attackers were dressed in dark, simple clothing. Cloth wrapped around their faces, protecting them from Lance’s scent. They were prepared for him, but that wasn’t unusual. It was why every member of the royal family was taught to fight in case their natural ability to subdue could not be used. Moonlight from the window glinted off metal and Lance’s stomach dropped. He had nothing on him to help fight against weapons.

“Nyma, come on! We need to—” He stopped when he looked at her. She was curled up at the head of her bed, scared, yes, but her eyes were fixed on _Lance_ , not the two others in the room.

 _She’s in on it._ Lance wasn’t sure if she was working with the others by choice or by threat, but it didn’t matter. She would get him killed one way or another. He wasted no more time and bolted for the hallway.

He ran blindly, not having paid much attention during their initial route through the house. Still, the hacienda wasn’t overly large, nothing like the various hallways of the palace. He was able to find the staircase easily enough and took the steps two at a time. The fact that no eldery servants or guards appeared to check on all the commotion was not lost on him.

This was a setup.

That meant his best option was to not use the doors. He ran to the nearest arched windows he could see, still open to invite the cool night air. Footsteps on the stairs behind him put more speed into his step as he ducked down to leap onto the window frame, jump to the small balcony railing that framed the tall window, and flung himself into the void.

He was weightless for a handful of rapid heartbeats before he dropped. Soft grass cushioned his fall, and he stumbled only once before taking off like a shot. He could see the tobacco plants in the distance, which meant he was running away from the palace. He glanced behind him and saw shapes forming from the darkness, hurrying after him. If he wanted to make it back to the palace, he’d have to lose his pursuers first.

Well, unlucky for them, he was an omega, and omegas were made to run. He dove into the neat rows of plants that were up to his chest, hoping that they would hide him somewhat from those following. The moon was bright, but it was still dark enough to get disoriented when chasing prey amid the shadows of swaying plants. The dirt beneath his bare feet wasn’t the most comfortable thing ever, but it was a far cry better than the city streets.

He ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt numb. Ahead of him, he could see the fast approaching cut off for the Diaz farm. Beyond that were thick bundles of crops only up to his knees, more likely to trip him than hide him. He chanced another look behind. He wouldn’t have made out that anyone was still following had it not been for the jittering of plant leaves to give them away.

He was starting to panic, his chest tight. He had the lead, but they were moving sure and true, confident in where Lance was heading. How? Why did they know exactly where he—

His scent. He’d gone from aroused to scared to adrenaline fueled to panicked. Even the best trained omega couldn’t keep their emotions tamped down in such a situation. He may as well have been leaving a trail as bright as the sun behind him. For all that omegas were built for running, they were also built for being chased.

He cursed harshly, blinking hard to clear his eyes of tears lest he stumble and fall. He needed a way to mask his scent, but he was naked and surrounded by open fields. Where in the world was he supposed to—

There was a loud shout from a group of people launching into song. The city streets were still filled with revelers, full of loud noise, food, drink, and — most importantly — smells. It was a risk. No, it was beyond a risk. The moment he entered those streets, he’d be calling to every alpha he passed, tugging at their instincts to chase down and capture the nude omega.

However, the alphas just wanted to knot him, not kill him, and even if the assassins _did_ show up, the alphas would fight to protect the claimed omega.

Refusing to let himself overthink it any longer, Lance turned, angling himself to still keep ahead of his pursuers while gaining on the city. He would enter it right where the middle class houses faded to those that were poorly maintained. It was a terrible place for a prince to be, but it was at least better than the slums. It would also be on the outskirts of the main streets filled with partying citizens. Perhaps he’d have a chance to hide and steal some clothing before he was noticed.

As he drew closer to the homes lining the city proper, he heard rustling behind him. His attackers were gaining on him, little by little. Logically, he knew that he still had a good lead on them, but his instincts flared nonetheless, causing a wave of panicked scent to release, his bare glands causing it to pour from him like a smoke signal.

Tearing between two darkened homes, Lance’s feet hit hard-packed earth littered with bits of gravel and dried foliage that tore at his soles. He was losing speed fast, teeth gritted through the pain. When he next landed on the uneven cobblestone roads, it did nothing to aid him. He stumbled multiple times, slowing a little further each time his foot turned at an odd angle or his toe jammed into a loose stone. Every tiny pause allowed his pursuers to get that much closer.

The fading paint of the homes around him were not so colorful or cheerful in the dark. The moon washed out the walls and the shadows dug deep like trailing claws. The hints of color blurred and twisted around him as his eyes darted here and there, looking for threats. Some windows held flickering light beyond them, causing an ominous dance of barely formed monsters on the edges of his vision.

His chest felt too tight, and fear raked down his spine. Breaths were harder and harder to draw. He pushed himself as far as he could, anxiety spiking with each silhouette that dashed by in his peripheral vision. How many people had seen him streak by naked? How many people were smelling his distress? How many people were locking their doors and hiding from whatever danger chased him?

 _You’re stronger than this, Lance!_ he scolded himself. _Don’t let them catch you!_

An alley opened on his right, and he skidded into it, slamming into the wall before barreling ahead. A sharp pain shot from his shoulder to elbow, but he ignored it. Another turn, another street, he took every option that came up, doing his best to cloud his scent everywhere and confuse those that were after him. He was getting lost himself, but then, that would have happened anyway. He had no idea how to navigate the city. He only knew of it through simple lines on a map.

He took another turn and between the tiny gaps in a row of houses, he saw crowds of people beyond. On the one hand, being so close to others would better help confuse his scent. On the other, it meant more people would know he was there. He didn’t know which was better. If he ran into the streets and begged for help, would anyone recognize him as the third prince? And even if they did, would they aid him at all?

Not so long ago, he believed in the people’s favor. Now, thanks to Keith, he wasn’t so sure. Was Keith the only citizen bitter about the wealth of the palace regardless of what the royalty provided for citizens?

Then again, running into a crowd half full of drunken alphas while in his state could cause a riot he may not survive. There were no good options and no individual strangers he could trust with his safety. He needed a plan.

At the next available intersection, Lance turned away from the crowd and back into the quieter streets. He squeezed himself between what small spaces he could, the harsh stone unforgiving against his skin. It left him feeling raw and aching in more ways than one. Stumbling into a dead end, he paused to catch his breath as he looked wildly around for some window big enough to squeeze into, but there was nothing.

“ _Shit, shit, shit_ ,” he whispered with passion before retracing his steps. He could no longer hear the soft noises of whoever was following him. He had no idea where they might be or if they were close at all. It was likely that he could run himself ragged until morning and still not be sure if he had escaped or was only delaying the inevitable.

Turning a new corner, Lance took off down the road, his speed slowing greatly as his legs grew more and more fatigued and his feet howled in pain. He needed to find a place to hide, someplace he could—

Something grabbed his arm and yanked him into a narrow alley. He opened his mouth to scream, but a hand clamped over it. He struggled immediately, but he was pressed hard into the wall beside him. A harsh voice whispered directly into his ear to be heard above his muffled shouts.

“Shut up, it’s me.”

 _Me? Me who?_ It took longer than it should have for his mind to make the connection. “Keith?” he mumbled into the palm over his mouth.

“Come on. I have an idea.”

The weight on Lance disappeared, and he turned in time to see Keith removing a light cloak from his shoulders before it was draped over Lance, enveloping him in the smell of alpha. Lance immediately balled his hands into it and wrapped it tight around him, doing his best to hide within the depths of it. Keith took hold of Lance’s wrist through the fabric and set off in a sure direction.

Lance allowed himself to be dragged along, trusting this alpha with his life despite only meeting the man twice and both times ending poorly. Why Keith was even concerned for Lance’s safety was a mystery, though the thought that Keith was working with assassins felt completely unrealistic. What surprised Lance more was how in control Keith appeared despite being surrounded by the scent of panicked omega.

At last, they ducked into an alley that reeked, a mostly dry gutter ran down the middle of packed earth between the backs of the buildings surrounding it. Barrels and pots of waste lined the alley, and puddles of piss sat stagnant in ruts along the gutter. Keith kicked one of the barrels they passed, the top sliding off to spill the rotten compost within it. Not far from the mess was a divot in the wall, just big enough for them to hide in.

Keith pushed Lance into the space and then pressed himself close, covering as much of Lance’s body as he could. The horrific smell surrounded them, causing Lance to gag. He pulled the cloak up to his nose and did his best to take shallow breaths despite his lungs burning for more. Blood still pounded in his ears, and his body shook with the need to continue moving, to keep running, to not stop until he was safe in the walls of the palace.

He almost begged Keith for that, to just take him straight through the city and back to the gates. He wanted to ask what the plan was and why they had stopped. He was trying his best to not demand that Keith go find some proper clothes for him and get them off the streets. For all that Lance was barely keeping his composure, Keith was calm and silent. Even his breathing made less sound than Lance’s own. He was listening for something.

Lance strained his ears and listened too. Minutes stretched impossibly long before they heard it. Footsteps echoed in the distance. The steps would run and stop periodically, as if whoever it was was searching for something — perhaps assassins searching for an escaped prince or an alpha tracking an irresistible omega. Lance tensed and Keith curled even farther into the small space, engulfing Lance, hiding the smell of terror.

The footsteps grew louder, stopping so close that Lance felt his heart stop. He held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to not make a sound. One heartbeat. Two. Three. The footsteps moved on, and Lance took a shallow, halting breath. He clenched his jaw tight on the sob of relief that tried to rip out of him.

They stayed right where they were for a while longer, making sure that those looking for Lance had moved on. The gentle sea breeze would blow the heavy scent Lance had trailed farther across the city. Perhaps they would chase it, thinking that they were still chasing him. Maybe, just maybe, he’d succeed in surviving the worst night of his life.

Keith pulled back, but Lance’s hands shot forward on instinct to grip the loose cotton shirt and hold the man still. His heart, which had previously been calming down, raced once more. He didn’t know what he’d do if Keith left, and he was fairly certain that fear was irrational and they were just leaving the stench of the alley, but his body refused to listen.

A kind hand wrapped around one of his own, hiding the slight tremble and white knuckles behind calloused skin. “I won’t leave you,” Keith whispered. “We need to get you somewhere safe and then form a plan.”

Lance nodded with quick, jerky movements. His throat wouldn’t work. He had so much he could say, but nothing came out.

“I’ll keep you safe,” Keith promised.

What else could Lance do but believe that? He wasn’t prepared for this. All of his training had been about how to avoid putting himself in this kind of danger. There wasn’t much on what to do if he was caught naked in the middle of the city with assassins searching for him and no idea who sent them. And wasn’t that just the worst part?

He had no idea who wanted to kill him, which meant he had nobody that he could turn to. Nobody but an alpha who knew how terrifying it was to be trapped and vulnerable while at the mercy of everyone around him.

“I trust you,” Lance choked out before he let himself be led into the city, his fate in a foreign commoner’s hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nyma's dress is influenced by traditional Bata Cubana dresses because frills! All the frills!
> 
> I hinted at classic mating runs that you see in some ABO fic, but I don't plan on the mating run to be a Thing in the story, just something that influnces instincts.
> 
> I focused a lot on a cross section of Lance's capability to handle himself, the limitations of his omega biology, and the steadily increasing irrational fear as his options were stripped away from him. Previously in the story, Lance was assured of his ability to control his surroundings. I wanted to put him in a situation where that was no longer true, and though that doesn't automatically make him weak, he struggled with thinking outside the box due to his upbringing. So, ya know, I hope that came across well. lol


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out chapter one for some amazing fanart I got this week if you haven't seen it! ^.^ Link to the tumblr post at the end of the chapter.

Keith slammed the door shut behind him and barely gave Lance enough time to look around the small room before being pushed into the bedroom. “Stay there.”

It was imperative to contain Lance’s scent, which was still spilling in waves from the omega. Keith felt his protective urges clawing at his chest, his whole body set alight with the need to hide away and defend. He’d never felt anything like it before. It made it so much harder to think rationally, and it was a struggle just to keep his focus on the present and not on the memories scratching at the walls placed in his mind.

“What are you doing?” Lance asked, his voice still soft and shaken. Keith twitched with the need to wrap them both tight in a bundle of blankets and soothe Lance straight through the night.

“I’m grabbing towels.” Towels, rags, bedsheets, quilts, whatever he could find. As he searched, he slammed the wooden shutters on the windows closed. In the bedroom, he stuffed what he could around the edges, sealing it off.

“Where are we?” Lance asked.

“Our home,” Keith replied automatically, his voice coming out flat as he tried to control the instincts Lance was setting off.

“But there’s only two rooms.” The statement tumbled from Lance’s mouth with innocent confusion. Keith’s lips pulled back from his teeth, but he managed not to audibly snarl. That wouldn’t help to calm Lance at all.

It was true, however. There was a single room that acted as their living space and kitchen, a small bedroom just off to the side only slightly bigger than the bed it contained, and a tiny water closet in the corner that held a chamberpot and a squat barrel tub. It was likely Lance had never seen such a house in his life. If Shiro were here, he’d say it wasn’t Lance’s fault for growing up sheltered. That didn’t help to ease Keith’s anger in the slightest.

Shiro had been _alloted_ this house _by the royal family_ when the Demon Wave had wiped out the island he was born on, taking the lives of nearly everyone on it along with part of Shiro’s arm. The survivors had been moved to the capital and offered free housing. It was better than the thatch roof shacks of the slums, but it still wasn’t what one would call _nice._ Despite that, he’d done his best to make the place liveable and see to its upkeep.

When Keith arrived, they worked hard to afford the smallest of luxuries, little touches that made the place theirs. It was the first time in his life he’d ever lived somewhere that felt like a home — somewhere he was happy to return to, despite the cramped conditions. It had become a place that would feel somewhat melancholy to leave even if they could one day afford something better.

That made him fiercely protective of his home, and the strange alpha emotions raging inside of him wanted an outlet. He thought of Shiro’s voice to help control his instincts. _Have patience. One thing at a time. Focus on a task._ So Keith ignored the omega in the room and narrowed his world to securing the house.

He finished sealing the windows and stuffed a rolled towel against the bottom of the front door. Next he lit candles, all the ones they had, hoping that the flames would burn away some of the smell. He still needed to contain Lance in the bedroom, as Shiro would come home eventually. The main room needed to be free of Lance’s anxiety long enough to not alert the neighbors with a storm of it swirling out their front door.

“Where’s Shiro?” Lance asked, his voice smaller now and trembling.

Chancing a look, Keith noticed that Lance had his arms wrapped around himself, shivering where he stood under Keith’s cloak. The sea breeze at night during the dry season was cool enough to warrant something to stave it off, but with the two of them now huddled inside with all the windows latched and candles burning, the house was uncomfortably stuffy. Lance wasn’t cold, he was suffering from the after effects of whatever had happened.

 _He was naked and running for his life,_ Keith reminded himself. His anger faded away in an instant. Lance wasn’t in the right mind to be tactful, and that wasn’t his fault. Keith knew that better than most. “Shiro will be home eventually,” Keith said at length, and he made an attempt to sound soothing. “He knows I don’t like crowds, so I usually go home early.”

He moved to the water pitcher and poured some into a cup and some into a bowl. Next, he pulled down some clean cloth. There was a small smudge of blood on the floor, and Keith was fairly certain it came from Lance’s feet. It was likely that the only reason the prince was still standing was because he wasn’t feeling much of his body at all anymore.

Moving everything into the bedroom, Keith sat the items on the side table and shut the door, stuffing another towel and a few rags around it to seal it off. Lance watched it all with distant, uncertain eyes. When Keith reached out, Lance flinched. After a moment’s hesitation, Keith turned and picked up the cup, holding that out for Lance to take.

“Here, drink something.”

There was a long, drawn-out moment between them before Lance sluggishly reached up and took what was offered. The water rippled in his hands but not bad enough that he couldn’t hold it. He took a tentative sip, then a larger gulp, before curling the festive blue and white cup into his chest. The spot of color was at odds against the quiet, shaken figure that held it.

After a moment, Lance looked up to meet Keith’s gaze. His eyes were an even darker blue in the dim light, reminding Keith of the midnight sea. The gaze was slightly unfocused, eyelashes clumped from tears Keith hadn’t seen fall.

“Sit,” Keith said, doing his best to keep his tone neutral rather than a scolding demand. He was still on edge, surrounded by Lance’s panic. It was so strong his inner ear nearly felt the pressure of it, like a particularly harsh hurricane. “I’ll look at your feet.”

As if having called attention to them made them appear, Lance looked down and winced. Gritting his teeth, he backed up the two steps needed to sit gingerly on the bed. Keith grabbed the items he needed and went to his knees, sitting back on his heels before lifting one wounded foot carefully into his lap.

Washing and bandaging the prince’s bruised and bloody feet should have felt demeaning. It didn’t. Strangely, it appeased the grating instinct to care for the omega before him. The process lulled the both of them, allowing the tension to drain enough that the choking scent of their combined emotions was no longer trying to smoke out the room.

“We don’t have a lot to spare,” Keith said as he worked. “I have some pants I outgrew that I haven’t been able to tailor yet. You’re slim enough to fit in them, I think. Shiro has a shirt he ripped, but we haven’t sewn it up yet. It’ll be baggy, but it will at least cover you.”

Lance didn’t say anything. Normally, Keith wasn’t averse to silence, but currently it felt too heavy. After spending time with the prince who never shut up and always said something that felt specifically designed to grate on Keith’s nerves, the timid quiet was unsettling.

“I think Shiro has an extra pair of sandals stuffed under the bed. You can use my cloak again when you leave. I’ll sleep on it tonight so it smells like me. It’s a day of rest tomorrow anyways, so we can—”

“I don’t know who it was,” Lance whispered.

Keith looked up in surprise and met Lance’s haunted eyes. “What?”

“I don’t know who tried to kill me.” A forced, weak laugh fell from his lips. “It’s funny, right? You’d think that someone trying to kill you would be a dramatic affair. It should be obvious who is angry enough to send people to do the job. But no. Sometimes it means you’re just inconvenient to some bigger plot and there’s no way of discovering it, even when you’re left to bleed to death on the floor and have all the time you need to puzzle it out.”

Keith moved without thinking. He pushed forward to sit on the bed beside Lance and wrap his arms around the thin frame. The move startled Lance, but he sank into Keith’s chest immediately afterwards. He shivered in short, random bursts, but it seemed he pulled comfort from the protective embrace.

“Don’t worry,” Keith murmured into Lance’s hair. “I’ve grown up learning how to fight dirty and escape afterwards. I’ll handle anyone that shows up.”

A breathy laugh escaped Lance. “I can see you as a kid aiming for the _cojones_.”

“You’re not wrong,” Keith replied, one corner of his lips twitching. He reached between them and pushed at Lance’s hands. “Finish that. You need it.”

Lance didn’t argue, just pulled the cup up to his lips and sipped at it until it was empty. Doing something so normal and mundane as drinking water would help Lance settle into his own skin again. Not to mention, after running who knows how long, his body was likely thirstier than Lance was fully aware of.

The front door clacked, followed by the sound of the towel dragging across the floor. Lance sucked in a sharp breath and crawled backwards on the bed, eyes wide and body tense like he was prepared to run once more. Where he planned to run _to_ , Keith didn’t know, but he stood as well, placing himself in front of the bedroom door and ready to fight. The door in the other room shut a little too hard.

“Keith?” Shiro’s voice, and he sounded wary.

“In here,” Keith answered. Lance made a small noise of alarm at their location being revealed despite there being only one place to look.

There was a pause and then footsteps, but only one set that Keith could hear. “What’s going on?”

Keith hesitated. “Are you alone?”

It was a stupid question. If Shiro was held hostage and being forced to lure them out, he would have found a way to clue Keith in to the possibility. Lance’s fear was once more causing Keith’s paranoia to spiral out of control. He pulled his shirt up and held it over his nose, taking a few careful breaths through the fabric to clear his head.

“I’m alone,” Shiro confirmed, his voice settling into that calm tone he used when Keith was having a flashback. “Are you?”

Stepping forward, Keith opened the door, the rags tumbling to the floor as he did so. Shiro stood on the other side, face filled with concern, his boots and cloak still on. Just seeing his face made Keith relax a little more. “Sorry,” he said through his shirt.

“It’s alright. What’s going—” He stopped talking, his eyebrows dipping down in confusion and his pupils narrowing. He must have caught a punch of panicked omega scent.

Keith stepped to the side so Shiro could see Lance still squatting on the bed, ready to fight his way out at any moment. Shiro huffed in disbelief, lips parting in shock as he took in the bandaged feet, nude body, and Keith’s cloak. Lance’s eyes were darting between the two, like he was just realizing the weight of what it could mean being trapped in a bedroom with two alphas.

“Lance!” Shiro breathed, voice heavy with worry. “What happened? Are you alright?” He moved into the room but didn’t crowd Lance. Shiro was used to dealing with these things. “Tell us what you need. We’ll keep you safe.”

“I…” Lance trailed off before going limp and sagging onto the mattress. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t worry,” Shiro assured as he carefully sat on the edge of the bed. “We’ll get you back to the palace—”

“No!” Lance’s eyes went wide, and his arm shot out to grip Shiro’s cloak. “I can’t!”

“Why not?” Keith demanded.

“What happened?” Shiro asked in a calming voice.

“I don’t know who wants me dead!” Lance insisted, like that explained everything.

“Then who can you trust?” Shiro tried to reason.

“I don’t know!” Lance’s breaths came faster. “It could be anyone. How many people are working for them, or bribed by them, or threatened into doing what they want? I don’t even know if Nyma was in on it or forced to help.”

“Who’s Nyma?” Keith asked, bewildered.

“It was a setup,” Lance said, eyes distant as he leaned a little farther into Shiro. “She got me out of the palace, made sure I was unarmed. There was nobody in the house!”

“And you got away,” Shiro soothed, his hands reached up to gently rub up and down Lance’s arms. “You’re safe now.”

Lance shook his head violently. “Any of the guards could be in on it, the servants, the farmhands, not to mention any of the royalty!”

“What about your family?” Shiro asked. “We could contact—”

“You’d never reach them!”

That was likely true. If they couldn’t trust anyone, that meant trying to sneak up to the royal family without anyone else noticing, and that would be impossible. Keith frowned and resisted the urge to pace. They couldn’t keep an omega prince in their home! If the wrong _or_ right people found out, both Keith and Shiro would be executed before Lance could say a word in their defense.

“I’m trapped,” Lance whispered, his tone sounding utterly defeated.

He began to cry, and Keith was beyond grateful that his mate was there to handle it. Shiro opened his arms and encouraged Lance to crawl into them. The room filled with a steady, musky scent that felt like safety and protection, strong enough that Keith could smell it through his shirt. He shut his eyes for a moment and basked in the comfort Shiro was always so ready to provide.

Shaking himself, Keith closed the door once more and stuffed the rags back into place. Soon, Shiro would have Lance calmed down, and they’d be able to open the windows. With any luck, the wind would pick up tomorrow to help scrub the house of any lingering omega scent. Keith really didn’t want it clinging to their bedroom and instilling such a sense of aggression in him. He’d never be able to sleep again.

Keith sat near the headboard, arms crossed and eyes on the door. He kept his ears sharp for any strange noises but heard nothing outside of the occasional neighbor stumbling home drunk and happy. It took a while for Lance to cry himself out and calm down, but by the time he did, Shiro’s steady musk had tempered the three of them significantly. Shiro grabbed a spare rag from Keith and waited on Lance to blow his nose before asking any more questions.

“Do you want to stay here?” Shiro asked, his tone welcoming and soft. “We’ll keep you hidden and safe, but if there’s anywhere else you can think of to go, we’ll take you there instead.”

Lance curled into Shiro’s chest a little more as if trying to hide from the world. “I don’t know who to trust.”

“Then you can stay here,” Shiro said. He glanced at Keith who gave a single nod in response. It wasn’t as if they had much of a choice in the matter, and Keith was not cruel enough to cast anyone out in Lance’s condition, omega prince or not. “If you can think of anywhere else you’d like to go later, then let us know. We’ll help however we can.”

For a moment, Lance appeared hopeful, but his face fell into something akin to bleak acceptance. “Because I’m your prince.”

Keith understood far before Shiro did. If they were helping out of obligation to a prince, then it made them a liability. The right offer would overcome some distant sense of fealty to a relative stranger that held an uncomfortable amount of power over the poor. However, Keith didn’t give two shits about Lance being a prince or an omega or richer than anyone should be. Shiro may have played the role of good citizen to keep them safe when meeting Lance in the past, but Keith sure hadn’t.

“Because you’re Lance,” Keith snapped in return. For what was likely the first time in his life, his harsh attitude was a benefit to the situation. “You think I want some spoiled prince in my house? No. But _you_ are annoying, pompous, rambling Lance, and even if you are a pain in the ass, you don’t deserve this happening to you.”

Those deep, blue eyes met Keith’s for a long moment before a tear rolled down Lance’s cheek at the same time he huffed a quiet laugh and smiled. “Usually, you don’t trust the people who hate you.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I don’t hate you, idiot.”

Shiro cast Keith a _look_ for pushing the insults too far, but Lance only brightened more at them.

“The only person who ever dared to call me an idiot was my sister,” Lance said.

“She sounds smart,” Keith returned.

“Yeah…” Lance tried for a grin and managed it for a second or two. “She is.”

“Then we’ll do whatever we have to in order to get you back to her.”

Lance sucked in a deep, shaking breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yes.” He looked between the two alphas. “I trust you.”

“Good.” Keith stood up with a decisive nod. “Then let’s get some sleep so we can tackle this in the morning.”

As Shiro stayed with Lance, Keith burned out the rest of his restless energy by wetting a cloth to clean them all of sweat and general city dirt. He collected Shiro’s nightshirt and offered his own to Lance, opting to sleep only in underwear. It would be warm enough with three of them and the windows shut, so Keith didn’t mind the lack of clothing. He laid his cloak on his side of the bed to make sure it would smell like only him come morning.

Shiro laid down with Lance snuggled into his chest. Keith was surprised at how much that didn’t bother him. Was it because Lance was an omega or because Keith was simply that confident in having Shiro as his mate? Well, it wasn’t necessary to puzzle out right now. He crawled under the sheet beside them and wrapped himself around Shiro’s broad back, his own to the door, making sure he was the first person to protect them from possible invaders.

Exhaustion pulled the three of them down faster than their earlier anxiety normally would have allowed. The fiesta in the city continued late into the night, but it was blessedly quiet within their room. Tomorrow, Keith would worry about what fate dropped at his feet. For now, he could rest knowing that his home, and everyone in it, were safe.

꧁___꧂

Shiro worked on a small pot of stew in the hearth while Lance sat on a wicker bench by the window. The shutters were open, allowing the prince to gaze outside, though there was little in the way of a view what with all the other homes so close by. There was a sliver of blue sky to be seen with clouds racing along it, threatening the possibility of a rain shower and reminding the city that the wet season was coming.

“Is Keith normally gone this long?” Lance asked, pulling his legs into him and leaning against the wall. He was all but drowning in Shiro’s old shirt, and it sagged on one shoulder from where it had torn.

“It can take time to walk the city and talk to those that hear rumors,” Shiro gently explained. “He’ll be home soon.”

Lance hummed as he chewed nervously on the side of his thumb. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Was he waiting on the alphas to mess up and reveal his location? Or did he assume Keith was looking for whoever wanted Lance dead to earn a bit of coin?

Shiro replaced the lid on the stew and left it to simmer. He walked over to sit next to Lance with a smile. “It’s going to be alright. Keith knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah.” Lance looked up with a strained smile. “I trust you.”

He had said that multiple times by now, and Shiro wondered what it truly meant. It wasn’t as if Lance had much choice but to trust them. The phrase was likely more to reassure himself and placate Shiro and Keith. All considering, Shiro thought Lance was acting incredibly brave under such uncertain circumstances.

After all, he _could_ have been using his omega scent to curb the will of any alpha near him, sending them into a frenzy of protective need. Shiro had felt how strong that drive was the night before. He’d been ready to rip the throat out of anyone who came near the omega. However, since regaining control, Lance had kept his scent in careful check.

“You know, you’re doing a lot better than Keith did his first night here,” Shiro said with a secret smile.

Lance was immediately drawn in, his curiosity pulling him out of wherever he’d been trapped inside his own head. “Oh? Were you courting each other by then?”

Shiro laughed. “No. That wouldn’t happen for years. He was young when I first met him. He stole my lunch, basket and all.”

A surprised laugh burst from Lance. “What did you do?”

“I let him have it.” Shiro shrugged. “He looked half starved. I was already planning on buying some more jute to make a new shopping basket when he showed up at my door and returned the one he stole. I barely got a word out before he’d disappeared again.”

“An honorable thief!” Lance snickered, his eyes alight with the story.

“After that, I would offer him part of my food when I saw him — in exchange for not stealing all of it. We went on like that for a few years, I suppose, as I learned more about him, and he repaid me with gossip about who was selling spoiled meat and who had the best prices in town.”

“So he didn’t trust you?” Lance asked.

“He didn’t trust anyone, especially alphas as big as I was.” Shiro thought back to how Keith had looked then — painfully skinny, covered in dirt, flinching and hissing like a wounded cat. It still made Shiro’s heart hurt to think about it. “He was in his late teens the first time he stayed in my home. It was during a particularly bad storm, one he wouldn’t have survived staying outside during.”

Shiro had been running home after getting some supplies, ready to hole up with the rest of the city to escape the winds and floods. Keith had been running blindly from something that had long ago stopped chasing him. It had taken Shiro nearly an hour to convince Keith to follow him home, and even then, it was the bolt of lightning splitting a nearby tree that had convinced the stubborn little alpha.

“He suffered from so many nightmares back then, and he kept as much distance between us as possible.” Shiro rubbed the back of his neck with a grimace as he told the next part. “I had been courting someone at the time. He wasn’t pleased to find out I’d had another alpha in my home for three days.”

Lance’s hands flew to his mouth, his eyes wide with the scandal of it. “Oh, no. Did he shun you?”

“He very nearly did, but that was more due to Keith punching him in the jaw before running off.”

Lance snorted. “He didn’t!”

“He did.” Shiro smirked. “Keith had a lot of anger inside of him back then, and he hated when people assumed that he slept around. I didn’t figure out why until later…” Shiro shook his head, determined not to dwell on the horrible parts of Keith’s past. “Well, not long after that, I helped him find a job with the sugar mill I worked at. It paid well enough for him to rent a room somewhere. He slowly learned how to socialize after that.”

“If you ask me, he still has a way to go,” Lance said, nose stuck in the air.

Shiro laughed. “I suppose he does.”

Lance leaned away from the wall and farther into Shiro, showing a level of camaraderie that Keith had taken years to reach. “So what happened to the alpha you were courting before?”

“Ah, well, it felt as if we split for such insurmountable reasons at the time, but looking back, I think we just had different things we wanted in life. Even after we ended things, it was years before Keith admitted his feelings for me.”

Of course, “admitted” was a strong word. Keith had managed to get himself drunk without realizing it, and his scent was what clued Shiro in when he’d helped a stumbling Keith back to his home. Shiro was the one to broach the subject, and it was clear that Keith was ready to run away the entire conversation. He’d had it in his mind that he was damaged goods, unable to have a proper relationship with Shiro.

All it really took was time, patience, and a lot of talking. Keith hated the talking part, but he grudgingly accepted it as a necessary evil as time went on.

“And now you’re in love,” Lance finished with a fond smile that Shiro returned.

“We are.”

Lance hugged his legs tight into his chest, but this time he did it with excitement rather than anxiety. “You two are cute.”

That pulled a laugh from Shiro. “I don’t know if he’d appreciate being called cute.”

“Too bad, he’s stuck with it now!”

They talked for a while longer, trading happy stories to keep their minds occupied from heavier topics. When Keith returned home, Lance was excited rather than apprehensive to see him. One eyebrow arched in surprise at the reaction before he shared a look with Shiro. It was almost funny how thrown Keith was to be greeted so warmly by the prince.

“We’ve been chatting,” Shiro said with a smile.

“I can see that,” Keith returned, setting down a basket on the trestle table. “I managed to get a deal on an undyed piece from Shay.”

Lance bounced to his feet, knowing that was specifically for him. “Really?”

Keith pulled out a stiff, ruffled tunic that would fall to Lance’s knees. It was shapeless and grey, looking thin and bulky all at once, but thankfully, clothing made from banana leaves were softer than they looked. It also had the added benefit of being protective from the weather while still breathable. It was a good find for what little extra money they had to spare, and it would certainly hide Lance’s omega frame from anyone that might happen to see him.

“Oh.”

Shiro looked back to see Lance struggling to keep a smile on his face, determined to hold onto his excitement despite how clear it was that he hated it. Keith’s classic annoyed frown was on his face in an instant. “They don’t sell silk this close to the slums.”

“ _Keith_ ,” Shiro warned.

Lance stepped forward and snatched the tunic from Keith, hugging it to him with a smile that was more grimace than anything else. “This is perfectly fine.”

“Good.” Keith turned with a jerk and began putting away the food he’d bought. They would need to make it stretch in order to feed the three of them for however long Lance would be with them. “Don’t eat any of this tomorrow.”

“I heard you the first time!” Lance complained, having already been lectured on eating sparingly that morning after being shocked with how little breakfast he’d received. “I only eat what you leave out.”

“Exactly.”

Lance stomped back over to the bench and sat down again with a huff. “Well, did you hear anything about me?”

“No.”

“What do you mean _no_?” Lance demanded.

Keith turned to them with a thoughtful frown. “I mean nobody is talking about it. At all. I don’t think anyone from the palace is letting slip that you’re gone.”

Lance fell silent, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes distant. Shiro placed a gentle hand on Lance’s shoulder. “What does it mean if everyone is keeping it a secret?”

“I don’t know,” Lance murmured. “I don’t have enough information…”

“Then we need to _get_ information,” Keith said. “Have you thought about who you can trust that we could contact?”

Lance scrubbed at his face and grumbled. “I don’t know.”

“There’s not going to be a perfect decision,” Keith said. “If the palace decides later to search for you—”

“I get it!” Lance cut off. They all knew the kind of danger Shiro and Keith would be in if a missing prince was found with them. “But what happens if I pick the wrong person?”

Keith shrugged. “Then we kill _them_ first.”

Shiro winced but didn’t argue. It was gruesome to say something so casually, but if it came down to their lives against a stranger who killed for political power, well, Shiro knew what he would do. He squeezed Lance’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll protect you.”

They waited as Lance took a deep breath to collect himself. He slid his hands back into his short hair and gripped at it while staring at the tiled floor. “Florona has been with me since I was a child. She has family in the city that she visits. If they’re hiding my disappearance, then she’ll go to visit per usual on her rest day to avoid suspicions.”

“Who’s Florona?” Keith asked.

“My butler.”

“Where do her parents live?” Shiro followed up.

“In the upper city, but not that high.”

The upper reaches of the city were built along the hills that led up to the haciendas which dominated the land prior to the palace. The well off lived in the upper city, making alphas a rare sight. Still, with Keith’s slim build, it was possible they could clean him up enough to pass as a well-to-do beta and make it to Lance’s butler.

“Then let’s set up a plan,” Keith said. “We’ll need to narrow down where her family lives and when she visits. Then I’ll need to talk to some people about the right disguise.”

Lance cringed. “I don’t want to hurt Florona.”

“I’m sure it won’t come to that,” Shiro assured. “If she’s been with you that long, then she knows you’re a good person and wouldn’t do anything to harm you.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Lance looked up at Shiro with a weak smile, that desperate hope back in his eyes. “I trust her.”

This time, Shiro knew exactly what Lance was feeling when it came to trusting people simply because there were no other options.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be clear, I don’t hate banana leaf clothing, or any other plant textile. I just wanted Lance to hate it. lol You can make some pretty cool stuff from banana leaves, actually. [link](https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RM90oDR8-b4/VYMt3AVncOI/AAAAAAAAAGo/4TVCQqvCge0/s1600/2015051209515458901.jpg) [link](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/6c/46/6a/6c466ae7d7141f6d588488d8c65413b6.jpg)
> 
> All the boys had some bonding time this chapter! ^.^ I love bonding time~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we get into this chapter, I would like to reiterate that I'm writing this society as sexually open and at ease with displays of sexuality.
> 
> This is part of my world building in that omegas, usually depicted as overwhelmed by their heats, are in control, which, to me, would mean that there would be no need to repress desire. It is a natural thing and should be embraced. This was, of course, part of Lance's issue with seeing how what he was doing with commoner alphas could be harmful.

Lance was bored.

It was a strange feeling to be bored while hiding from murderers in an unknown house occupied by two untrained alphas. There was just that little to occupy his mind. After a sedate evening of planning and a surprisingly relaxing sleep between the alphas, Keith and Shiro had to return to work. This meant Lance must stay hidden and find something to do while they were away.

At first, he’d considered a bath. He could use the heat to ease his sore muscles and the calming water always helped to settle his mind. But no, there was no bath, just a wooden bucket barely as tall as his knees and only wide enough to sit in if one was willing to brave possible splinters. It was just there to keep water off the floor while using a rag to clean up.

Frustrated, Lance took to snooping. That lasted barely an hour before he’d run out of things to snoop on. There wasn’t much to see in the house, and what items were available tended towards basic necessities. There was a painted vase and a sculpture of a cat to help decorate, but Lance could only stand there and appreciate the art for so long.

When noon rolled by, he tried to distract himself from the lingering hunger of his small meal by sprawling on the jute rug and poking at [godhorse](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diapheromerinae) with a fork. It was unbearably hot, so he’d rid himself of Shiro’s torn shirt a while ago. He still couldn’t bring himself to wear the grey, frilled monstrosity.

The two small windows were open, but it did little good. This deep in the city, the ocean winds weren’t as strong, and the house wasn’t built in a way that encouraged a constant, cooling breeze. He wasn’t sure who had built the house, but it was poorly designed. He’d studied quite a bit of architecture from various countries over the years of his education, and the alphas’ home was an absolute affront to the artform.

He wanted to say, “I would never allow this to be built in my city.” Yet, this _was_ his city, and he hadn’t had a clue that such buildings existed. There were a lot of them, too, all built to prioritize space rather than function. How much did he really know about what was happening in the capital? He used to believe he was informed about everything, as his main priority revolved around the welfare of the citizens.

Lance sighed and rolled over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “I need new advisers.” His current advisers swore that they consulted everyone in the city about their routines in order to provide a complete assessment of the kingdom’s needs. “Do they ever go below the upper city?”

Ontillia was supposed to be the shining jewel of the world, a country that was envied by others for its beauty and the glory of its omega government. It was why so many foreigners sought a new life here. Lance was proud of his country and had long believed it to be perfect with only the headache of royal politics to mar it. He was starting to think himself rather naive.

He rolled his head to look at the bench and the large shirt abandoned on it. During his snooping, he’d found some needle and thread. Not once in his life had he been taught to sew, but he’d seen plenty of others doing such work. It didn’t look too hard, and at least he’d feel useful by doing _something_ not only for two of his citizens but for the alphas who had saved his life.

“Learning a new skill will do me good. I’ll get to impress all the palace seamstresses!” Lance said to the godhorse who had settled onto the leg of the bench. “Maybe it’ll convince one of them to walk the gardens with me.”

Servants of the palace were always nervous about starting any dalliances with a member of royalty, but some happened to be brave enough to try. That was if one could properly woo them. Good thing Lance had a lot of practice in the art of wooing!

The sun was setting by the time Shiro and Keith returned home. Lance was sitting on the bench by the window to get the last bits of fading light as he knotted the thread in place, his tongue stuck between his teeth. He’d had to pull out the thread more times than he cared to admit, but it was finished! Sure, it folded and scrunched up around the tiny knots, and he still didn’t understand how to make those even criss-cross shapes with the thread, but it was fixed!

He held it up proudly, a giant grin on his face. “Look! Now you don’t have to worry about mending it!”

Shiro stood there in amazement at Lance’s self-learned skill for quite a few moments. “Wow. It’s… thank you.”

Keith took a deep breath, closed his eyes, tilted his head to the ceiling, and exhaled harshly. He said nothing as he turned away and set something wrapped in banana leaves on the table. Lance was instantly defensive.

“What was that? Just because I don’t know all the intricate patterns like the servants in the palace—”

“Intricate!” Keith choked off any further words and tensed clawed hands in the air before a look from Shiro had him moving to the water pitcher instead.

“I can tell you’ll be an expert with a little practice,” Shiro cut in before Lance and Keith could argue any more.

The compliment was effective, and he cheered back up instantly, chest puffing out with a wide grin. At least _Shiro_ appreciated his efforts! “You two are back late,” he said, setting his project aside.

“Iverson fed anyone willing to stay in order to catch up on work from the extra day of rest,” Shiro said with a smile. “But we picked up something light from a vendor on the way home, including something for you.”

Lance hopped up with a smile, walking over to see what Shiro was unwrapping as Keith set three cups of water on the table. There were strips of jerk chicken and a few tostones that had Lance’s mouth watering. It was no feast, and he really hadn’t done much to work up an appetite, but he was starving all the same.

There was a single, short, wooden bench by the table, only big enough for two. Keith sat down without waiting on Lance to choose a seat first. It irked him, but at the same time, he felt strange arguing that he should be treated in the reverent way he always was. After all, that was the reason he'd sought out commoner alphas for years.

“I’ll pull over the other bench for you,” Shiro said.

“No, no! I’m fine.” Lance offered a cheeky grin as he pushed himself up onto the table itself, sitting cross-legged as he picked up a piece of chicken. Keith cursed and snatched his cup out of the way, but Lance was more than graceful enough to have not bothered a single item on the table. He always enjoyed showing off.

“Uh… Alright.” Shiro smiled and sat down next to Keith, breaking a tostone in half to share with him.

Lance spent his time looking the two alphas over as he chewed. There were streaks of dirt here and there, and the heavy smell of sweat still clung to their clothes. Their hair was a mess, wind tousled and needing a good scrub clean. A hint of saltwater weaved into their musky alpha scent, meaning they had rinsed off at least a little prior to returning home.

Whenever Lance had chosen alphas before, the palace servants had scrubbed away every bit of grit before allowing them to be in his presence. It was a loss he’d accepted at the time, knowing he would never get away with seeing an alpha drenched in glistening sweat, muscles still bulging from hard labor outside of the selection process. It was different now, however. They were right in front of him, smelling like the filthy daydreams he occupied his time with.

“Lance?”

He jerked back into the present, meeting Shiro’s concerned gaze. Keith was frowning hard, but it didn’t look as hostile as it usually did. Lance realized he’d been lost in his head while a piece of chicken pulled at his bottom lip. He cleared his throat and shoved food in his mouth, cheeks heating a bit at being unable to concentrate on food in the presence of his personal wet dream.

“This is good!” Lance announced as he stuffed himself with the rest of the food left for him. “I can’t remember the last time I was allowed to have street food.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Shiro sounded calm, but the grip on his cup said otherwise. There was a good chance that Lance was letting loose the scent of his arousal without realizing it.

Well… was that a bad thing? A good tumble in the sheets could release a lot of tension, and they all needed that, especially him.

His eyes flicked to Keith, judging the man’s reaction. He didn’t appear to be overly upset. Perhaps if Lance did things _right_ this time, it wouldn’t feel like such an attack for the poor alpha. All Lance had to do was get them to come to him. With that in mind, he began licking his fingers clean, slow and deliberate. He arched his back just enough to show off his slim features and bring attention to the fact that he was still shirtless.

“So, uh, did you do well on your own?” Shiro asked, cutting his eyes away.

“I was lonely,” Lance admitted, and he turned his body bit by bit to face them. “I’m rarely ever alone.”

“I can see how that would be disorienting,” Shiro said before taking a sip of his water. “I wish I had something I could offer to keep you occupied.”

“You might.” Lance smirked as he slid his legs off the table and placed his feet on the bench, one between the two of them, and one between Shiro’s legs.

Shiro looked down at Lance’s foot and swallowed.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked, catching Lance’s attention. His face was set in that frown of his but was largely unreadable. His _scent_ , however, had spiked. He was responding to Lance’s call.

 _You have to do this right._ Lance pulled back on his sultry grin and did his best to look academic. “It’s just instinct. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that.”

“Shiro is my mate.”

“I’m not asking to come between your bond.” He leaned forward. “I’m asking to lay between your bodies.”

Keith’s pupils expanded, just a bit, as his scent flooded the room. It was filled with a riot of emotion, all riding on a wave of lust. He likely didn’t realize he was doing it, or if he did, had never been taught how to control it. Lance’s eyelashes fluttered, lips parting, as he leaned a little farther in, taking a deep breath. It was musky, dirty, dangerous, and absolutely _delicious._

Lance slid a hand down his own chest, his face turning blissful as a wave of need filled his gut. His eyes roamed over their still glistening necks which would now be flavored with gloriously rich undertones from their scent glands. He licked his lips and bit back a moan before whispering, “I want to lick the sweat from the both of you.”

“We shouldn’t…” Shiro murmured, his eyes wide and dazed as they roamed up and down Lance’s body. His hand gripped hard at the edge of the bench. “You’re in a vulnerable position…”

That was the point. That was the exact reason why Lance wanted to. He whined. “I want to be marked. I want you to be rough. Nobody is ever rough with me.”

Keith’s lips pulled back from his teeth, and he growled deep in his chest. Lance shivered. Shiro shook himself and looked to his mate, his hand reaching out to hold Keith’s. “It’s just a proposition. We’re all tired and—”

“He’s a spoiled little shit who thinks he can get his way just because he’s an omega,” Keith ground out. He glared at Lance. “You think you control me? I should do whatever I want with you. Everything for _our_ pleasure, not yours.”

Lance wasn’t trying to control anyone. He could argue, and Keith was asking for a fight, a diversion from the sexual tension building in the room. However, Lance didn’t _want_ to argue. He wanted to be thrown down and punished. He craved it straight to his core.

“Then do it,” Lance challenged.

In the blink of an eye, they were face to face. Keith’s hand was in Lance’s hair, yanking Lance’s head back and pulling a sharp cry from him. His eyes watered, pain rippling along his skull even as pleasure rippled down his spine. The heavy scent of alpha enveloped Lance, his head spinning with it. Keith buried his nose in Lance’s scent gland and breathed deep, forcing Lance’s submission with what was normally such an intimate act.

Perhaps Keith wanted to scare Lance, but he wasn’t scared. Not in the slightest. He’d already laid his life at Keith’s feet, this felt like more of a natural conclusion than anything else. They fought each other, they protected each other, they fucked each other. That was how it went, right? That was what his instincts were screaming along his nerves.

Lance dug his nails into Keith’s back and arched into him with a shaky moan. “Please. Do it. Bite me. Bruise me. Mark me. Please, please, please.”

Keith’s teeth sank into his neck, hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to break skin. Lance shouted his pleasure-pain as the control on his scent was obliterated. It filled the room, crashing into Keith’s overwhelming alpha dominance. Keith smelled of hot summer nights and it battled against Lance’s raging thunderstorm. It suited them that their very scents fought as much as they did.

The warmth of Keith’s crotch rutted against Lance’s leg where he straddled it. In return, Lance wrapped his other leg around Keith’s waist, desperate to pull them tighter together. Keith sucked at Lance’s skin through his teeth, worrying at it, leaving a mark that would last for days. Lance trembled and moaned, his nails trailing down the hard muscles working under Keith’s tanned skin.

They were both startled out of their moment at the sound of wood slamming. The noise had them turning to see Shiro at the window, the shutters pulled shut and throwing the room into twilight. The only light came from the nearly set sun leaking through the open window in the bedroom. It was enough to see Shiro hunched over and breathing rapidly through his mouth.

“You two are going to call the whole neighborhood like this.”

Lance cursed under his breath and did what he could to get his scent back under control. It wasn’t perfect, he was still too out of his mind and trembling in desperate need, but it was better. Keith, for his part, managed to force his hand to let go of Lance’s hair and take a step back. Lance whined at the loss, turning his head to bare his neck, begging for the alpha’s return.

“Shiro,” Keith whispered. “I—”

“Don’t apologize,” Shiro cut in. He turned to look only at Keith, careful not to let his gaze stray no matter how much Lance tried to catch the big alpha’s gaze. “He’s right. This won’t change anything between us, but if you don’t want this, then you need to say so now.”

“It’s not that I… don’t…” Keith looked confused, like he never expected to desire anyone other than Shiro in his life — like he never believed it was possible to not be afraid of anyone but Shiro.

“I’m nearing my limit, Keith,” Shiro admitted. “I need to rut. So either I fuck Lance and you fuck me, or we leave him here to take care of himself and take a run to the beach to swim in the water.”

A noise of dismay ripped from Lance’s throat before he could stop it. He didn’t want to influence their decision. He didn’t want to be the stupid person he had been before. If they wanted to swim in the cold waters to regain control, he had no right to stop it. That said, it _hurt_ to think of them leaving. Shiro wasn’t the only one suffering from biological demands. Perhaps his body just needed something to dominate and fuck, but Lance’s body was demanding that he seek comfort and protection from strong alphas.

He yearned to be claimed by them — their marks to say they wanted to stay with him, their home to say that they would keep him safe, their bodies to prove that he was desired. He was desperate for all of it. He didn’t understand why it felt this intense around them. It had never been like this with any other alpha. Was it because there were two of them? Was it because their approval of him was so much more real than anyone that served him at the palace?

Lance bit his lip hard on the urge to beg them to stay, his eyes stinging with emotions he didn’t understand.

Keith’s eyes were dark and feral in the dim light as they turned back to Lance. When he spoke, however, it was to his mate. “Close the bedroom shutters and find a gag. I’m going to make him scream and then you’re going to fuck him.”

“Yes!” Lance sobbed with relief, sucking in deep lungfuls of air as Shiro’s dark, earthy scent filled the room and blended with Keith’s — like ripe guava baking under an unrelenting sun.

Abruptly, Lance was thrown to the table. The wood rattled with the impact, the breath knocked out of him as he landed on his back. His head hung off the other side, getting an upside-down view of Shiro rushing to the bedroom window. Then everything went white as Keith began to bite his way down Lance’s skin.

It was harsh, rough, and felt almost like a punishment. It was everything Keith was and everything Lance had hoped for. He writhed under the treatment, hissing and moaning in turns. Keith had one hand on Lance’s hip to hold him still and another pressed to Lance’s throat, not squeezing, just gloriously possessive in the way it forced Lance’s compromised position.

“Lance,” the desperate whisper was not from Keith.

A gentle hand stroked through Lance’s hair, providing a stark contrast to the pain flaring along his torso. Lance let his eyes flutter open to be met with the sight of Shiro, nude and erect, towering over him. Immediately, he let his mouth fall open, inviting what the alpha obviously wanted, encouraging the gag Keith had demanded.

Shiro hesitated only a moment before slipping inside Lance’s drooling mouth. That first taste was like a drug, full of alpha essence and musk, sending Lance flying on a surge of pure lust. He thrust as hard as he could, his hips coming up an inch off the table before being shoved down again. His punishment was an even harder bite to his hip that had him shouting into Shiro’s cock.

“Submit,” Keith growled, the noise going straight to Lance’s dick and causing it to throb.

Lance wanted to submit more than either alpha was likely giving him credit for. He wanted to lose himself in this, escape his current situation and drown in the pleasure they would provide. He didn’t want to think or make decisions or fight. He just wanted to live in this moment, right now, with teeth in his flesh and a cock in his mouth.

There was movement and then his legs were being shoved into his chest. He grunted at the feeling but before his mind could guess what might happen, Keith’s mouth was latched to the delicate skin under his balls, sucking hard. Lance half-shouted and half-moaned before sucking on Shiro’s cockhead out of some strange reflex. Shiro hissed and bent forward, his arm resting on the table by Lance’s shoulder.

“Oh fuck, Keith, he’s—” Shiro cut off with moan.

Keith was using Lance’s overstimulation to provide pleasure to Shiro. With every noise Lance made, it rattled up Shiro’s cock. With every too-much sensation, Lance took it out on Shiro’s sensitive flesh. Keith’s dominance loomed over them both like a physical weight that had Lance trembling from the intensity and joy of it.

The alpha’s mouth teased at the flesh of his sack, sucked dark marks into the crease of his thighs, and grazed teeth over his throbbing member. He was jerking wildly against the grip on his hips until Shiro’s large hand pressed on his shoulder to further immobilize him. The longer it went on, the more his cock throbbed with need and the empty feeling in his hole began to eat at him.

For all that Keith held authority over them both, Shiro’s control was slipping. He began to fuck into Lance’s mouth in shallow thrusts, his eyelashes fluttering, mouth open and panting. He would shudder and bare his teeth whenever Lance had the mind to move his tongue properly. He wanted to taste everything Shiro had to give, grateful that at least some part of him was filled.

Just when Lance felt as if his body could take no more, Keith’s mouth latched onto his now dripping hole. He howled, his back arching, shoving himself farther onto Shiro’s cock and gagging. His fingers crawled at the table, his eyes rolling back into his head. He had never needed to be fucked more in his entire life than he did now. In response, his scent glands went into overdrive, his instinct determined to drive the alphas out of their minds until he was fucked within an inch of his life.

“Keith it’s too much. I need to— I need…” Shiro’s voice floated above Lance, strained and raspy with desire.

“Throw him on the bed,” was Keith’s response, the growl in his voice rattling up Lance’s spine like a guiro.

The world upended as Lance was pulled from the table and thrown over Shiro’s broad shoulder. He was being _manhandled_ by an alpha over twice his size. It was like a fantasy made reality. A shrill but delighted noise escaped him as he was dumped onto the bed. He almost sat up, but the alpha form looming over him had him curling back into the sheets, breathless and yearning.

Shiro’s face pressed into the side of his neck which he tilted readily to encourage it. There was a deep inhale and a shudder. The bed sank as Keith crawled up behind them both and began to leave biting kisses down his mate’s back. Shiro lifted his head to look Lance in the eye, the blown pupils bleeding into the dark grey of the iris due to the dim lighting, causing him to look more demon than man. A dull glint of white could be seen as he bared his teeth.

“Present.”

Lance had never flipped over and shoved his ass into the air faster in his whole life. He might have pulled something, in fact. None of that mattered. Nothing mattered but the body pressing into his and the thick cock pushing into his hole. He was going to be ruined for sex from here on out. No palace alpha would ever satisfy him like he was being satisfied now — worked up, sore, high on pain and pleasure, and a fat cock splitting him open with a steady and unrelenting pace.

Oh, the stretch was so good. It burned the slightest bit since Shiro wasn’t trained on how to work an omega open properly. He wasn’t trained on how to glide and pull back just as their hips met, or how to seek out erogenous zones to tease, or how to listen to an omega’s sounds to adjust accordingly. None of it. Instead, Shiro scooped his arms up under Lance’s chest, hand curling over one thin shoulder, and then set up a brutal, slapping pace that jarred Lance’s bones.

Something along the lines of “yes, please, more” fell from Lance’s lips, but it was garbled and nonsensical. He was being fucked, _truly fucked_ , surrounded by the smell of filthy alpha sweat and pre-rut scent. The two distinct smells of both alphas had warped into one all-encompassing scent, drowning Lance in it. He clawed at the thin sheets and moaned his desire, his own scent pressing back in kind.

Nothing in his life had truly prepared him for how _good_ this moment was.

Suddenly, Shiro’s rapid thrusts stuttered to a stop. Lance whined and pushed his hips back, grinding on the girth that had been ruining him so beautifully. Above his head came a noise somewhere between a growl and a whine, which was so unexpected that it took a moment to wrap his mind around it. The confusion only lasted a few seconds before Keith’s voice rumbled over them both.

“Keep going, Shiro,” Keith said with spine-tingling authority. “You don’t need to stop. Fuck yourself on my fingers like you’re fucking that little omega.”

Oh sun and stars, Keith really was going to fuck Shiro at the same time. Lance could just imagine it, the three of them in a pile of sweaty limbs, slick, and knots. He moaned and rocked himself back on Shiro’s throbbing cock, causing the alpha to growl and thrust instinctively before panting for breath.

“That’s it,” Keith’s voice sounded darkly amused. “Show me how much you want both.”

Lance had to wonder how this worked with Shiro’s instincts. After years of being in a relationship, it was clear that Keith and Shiro had formed a certain dynamic between them, learning to work beyond instincts for the sake of their mutual affection. But right now, with Lance’s scent warping both alphas’ desires, it must be a struggle for Shiro to submit while still desperate to dominate the omega under him.

“K-keith—” Shiro cut off with a growl as his hips slammed into Lance a handful of times before stilling again with a whimper. Lance gasped for breath, trashing against the cock inside of him. He’d never been teased like this before. Likely, it was only because it was such a new experience that he wasn’t going mad with desire and shouting demands.

“Look at you two,” Keith said, his voice as dark and crackling as his scent. “So desperate yet so obedient. I could do anything I want, right? You’d enjoy that.”

Shiro and Lance both moaned. Keith was getting off on this, on watching them unable to control themselves while at his mercy. To be fair, Lance was getting off on it as well. If asked just a week ago, he’d say this wasn’t something he thought was possible. Surely, he was the envy of every omega in the world right now.

Bit by bit, Shiro worked back up to being able to fuck Lance as hard as they both wanted. Lance pressed his face into the sheets, eyes rolling in his head, cock drooling under him, slick trickling down his thighs. The bed creaked, and Shiro abruptly stopped with a growl that Lance responded to with a desperate, guttural shout.

_No, no, no, more, I need more, keep going, oh please!_

“That’s it,” Keith said, voice sultry and soothing. “Relax. I’ve got you.”

Shiro’s head dropped to Lance’s neck, nuzzling it and breathing hard. Lance trembled as his mind caught up to what was happening. Keith must be mounting Shiro. Oh… _Oh fuck, that’s hot._ Lance’s hand slid of its own accord beneath his body to grip his erection. He couldn’t handle this delay, not with knowing what was happening above him. It was too much. He jerked himself, his muscles inside clenching at the sensation, milking Shiro’s thick cock, and causing the alpha to snarl.

A moment later, a big meaty hand wrapped around Lance’s wrist and yanked it back up to press into the sheets. Lance whined in desperation, his scent wafting with a demand to fuck him, fuck him now. He’d never been denied like this in his life. He’d _always_ been given what he wanted. He didn’t know how to handle this. He writhed and moaned and spilled pleading half words that were cut off when his face was pushed into the bed by Shiro’s other arm pressing on the back of his neck.

“I can’t,” Shiro growled in Lance’s ear. “It’s too much. Stay still.”

Lance shuddered at the sound of Shiro’s wrecked, rumbling voice. He’d never experienced an alpha that sounded as utterly desperate as Lance always was. Palace alphas were all controlled strength, and common alphas were damn near feral. This mixture of commanding and pleading in Shiro’s voice was new and unexpected and so very, very hot.

Keith’s satisfied sigh drifted through the room. “You’re so tight, Shiro. So good.” A duet of moans was his response, and he chuckled at them. “So cute.”

“P-please,” Shiro breathed.

“I’m not stopping you,” Keith said, the smirk clear in his voice. “Move all you want, Shiro.”

Oh. _Oh._ Keith was going to make Shiro do all the work, fucking into Lance and then back onto Keith, driving Shiro’s instincts wild with the need to rut the wet omega but ease himself onto an alpha’s cock. Lance couldn’t help but squirm once more in Shiro’s tight grasp. He was so worked up. He _needed._ He needed so much.

“Please, please, fill me up, please,” Lance babbled.

“You heard him, Shiro,” Keith said. “Are you just going to leave him to suffer?”

The growl Shiro released sounded like distant thunder, and Lance felt it through his back where Shiro’s chest was pressed. He moaned in response before a blissful shout was punched out of him by Shiro’s hips snapping forward. A slow drag out and then another rough thrust. _Ohhh, yesss…_

Lance’s eyes rolled back in his head. He was likely drooling, not that he cared. His cock was certainly making a bigger mess anyhow. He went boneless, submitting himself over to the control of the alphas as Shiro caused that swirling arousal in Lance to grow and throb and sink into his bones. Then there was Keith, commanding them both with nearly no effort on his part, likely riding high on watching them come apart under him.

The feeling of being filled over and over with hard, rhythmic thrusts overwhelmed everything else. Pleasure built. The smell of alpha encased him. He felt like he was in the eye of a raging storm, a perfect moment of peace surrounded by swirling chaos. His mind drifted only in the here and now, his concerns and fears lost to him for this one perfect moment in time. It was bliss.

Time passed, the three of them dragging out and getting lost in this wild moment. Lance’s cloying scent, Shiro’s heavy body, Keith’s growled words — possessive hands, trailing nails, sloppy kisses — the three of them rocking in time to one another, the sweat dripping down their bodies, the muggy heat of the dark room — it was everything Lance could have asked for. Release washed over all of them in a haze of ecstasy, sending Lance flying high, filled with hot seed while shooting his own on the sheets. He couldn’t say who came first or how many times. His mind was too far gone.

They didn’t stop. Shiro and Keith were passionate lovers, kissing and caressing, exploring all the skin they could reach as they enjoyed the buzz still under their skin. Lance felt his eyelids flutter as he gave himself over to the feeling of hands and hard bodies, touching, scratching, and holding him close. He purred as they wrapped around him. He felt so safe tucked between the two powerful bodies. Gentle lips pressed to his ear and temple while calloused fingers stroked his stomach. Those little moments weren’t taught and trained into the alphas, they were real.

It was only then that Lance realized what it was he craved every time he left the palace. More than bites and bruises, more than a rough tumble in the sheets, he yearned for someone to touch him gently because they _wanted_ to. It was why Lance had steadily stopped seeing the other palace alphas in favor of giving Hunk exclusive favor. When Hunk kissed, smiled, and touched, no matter how perfectly trained the action was, it was real.

But that’s what made it hurt sometimes. Outside of his family, Lance had no one else other than Hunk that showed him unconditional affection. That first time a city alpha had been brought to Lance, the man had smelled of adoration and excitement. It was like taking a hit of some potent drug, having someone want Lance for no other reason than that he was him rather than what his status and wealth could offer.

It was addictive.

Addictive and dangerous, as that exact desire had been used against him. Still, it had led him here, in the arms of two alphas who had every reason to hate him, whose association with him was dangerous from every possible angle. Yet, they kept him close, desired him, protected him, and left gentle kisses in his hair.

If he fell asleep that night with tears on his lashes, he’d never admit it to anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a fun time looking up street foods for this chapter, though I ultimately barely used any I found. lol


	6. Chapter 6

The highlight of Lance’s days became Shiro and Keith returning home. He would desperately run over to them, stay in their space, touch them whenever possible, and breathe in their sweat-drenched scent. Together, they would eat food that was never quite enough to fill Lance’s stomach, and he couldn’t imagine that it filled theirs. He refused to complain, however, and instead pushed for the distraction he desired.

Rarely did they turn him down. As much as Keith complained, it was clear he enjoyed having Shiro and Lance under his control. As much as Lance had previously complained about that kind of attitude, he was now reveling in it. Sex with the two alphas was always blisteringly hot and mind-numbingly euphoric. He wasn’t sure how he’d stand to go back to anything else.

If there was anything to go back to.

The rest of his days were spent with circling thoughts of paranoia and depression. He missed home so much that his chest hurt. His family must have been worried sick, his poor _abuela_ likely acting like an enraged sea serpent while searching for him. Hunk was probably crying somewhere, blaming himself for Lance’s poor decisions. Guilt ate at Lance like a living thing.

The heat of the day was stifling, and trapped in his own mind while pacing away his agitation, Lance felt like his bones were going to pop right out of him and run off. He knew better than to open the windows when he was this emotional, but stewing in his own panicked scent wasn’t helping him escape his thoughts. On the fifth day of his enforced isolation, he broke the rules and climbed out the window to scale the squat house and sit on the roof.

A storm was blowing in, though it would be hours before the rain started. Still, the constant hard gusts of wind would blow away his scent before it was even noticed. Lance sprawled on the hot stone roof and watched the clouds race by overhead. Below him, wind snapped at the clothes hung on lines as people attempted to finish their laundry before the rains started.

Lance had done laundry as well, hoping the physical activity would wear him out. It likely would have, were there much to wash in the first place. He’d even stripped his own clothes in an attempt to lengthen the process. Of course, this now meant he was stuck in that hideous, grey, banana leaf tunic. It rustled in the wind as much as the nearby palm fronds did.

Around him were the sounds of city life, things that were unrecognizable to him. From the rooftop, he had been able to see how cramped and crowded this part of the city was, and how the houses were nothing he’d ever approve of being built. There were no proper ditches for waste, or courtyards for community gardens, or spacing for sea breezes. It was everything he was promised didn’t exist in his city.

He sat up and pulled one leg into his chest, hugging it to him as he rested his chin on his knee, the soft leaves tickling his jaw. “What’s the point of having advisors if they don’t know what they’re talking about?” he muttered to himself.

Then again, his advisors had no reason to travel this far into the city. It was dangerous to flaunt wealth in a place where others had none. Though, if advisors never traveled here or spoke to the citizens about their needs, what poorer communities thought would help, or how implemented changes were affecting the city as a whole, then nobody would ever know. The palace remained uninformed. Worst of all, this was only the capital city, not the rest of the sprawling islands Lance rarely thought of and saw even less.

He was beginning to understand why Keith was so disgusted seeing the palace and bitter with royalty.

A fluttering buzz caught Lance’s attention. He looked up in time to see an emerald darting through the air, glittering in the shafts of sunlight, before it came to a rest on the banana leaves covering Lance’s outstretched leg. The little hummingbird tilted its head this way and that as it observed the surroundings. Lance grinned at it.

“What are you doing this far in the city?” Lance asked, keeping his voice soft so as not to spook it. “There are no flowers here or good trees to hide in during the storm.”

The bird tilted its head to eye Lance before ruffling its feathers.

“Are you making fun of my tunic?” he scolded.

In lieu of response, it poked its beak into the fringe of grey leaves as if searching for something sweet in the foliage Lance was calling an outfit.

“No food in there,” Lance promised. “Believe me, I wish there was.”

The hummingbird buzzed its wings but settled once more when a hard gust of wind swayed them both, sending banana leaves, hair, and feathers jittering around them. Lance looked up at the sky and saw the first hint of grey clouds in the distance. It wouldn’t be long before he’d have to go back inside and stay locked away in that tiny space with nothing to do and nowhere to run and only loneliness to keep him company.

He laid his cheek on his knee and gazed at his new friend. “I’m jealous, you know. You can fly back home anytime you want.” There was no response, just the slight swaying of the tiny bird barely bigger than his thumb as it suffered through the cool gusts of wind that smelled of promised rain. “Or are you lost?”

It buzzed its wings, hovering for a moment before settling again, as if it didn’t know where to fly.

“Me, too,” Lance whispered so soft that the breeze carried it away, though it rudely left behind the emotion that tightened his chest.

Abruptly, the little emerald took off, flitting away in an instant. Lance turned to watch it go, though his eyes couldn’t track it for long. There were plenty of hummingbirds in an array of colors at the palace living among the various blooms of the garden. It would likely go there, where food was abundant and none would hurt it.

Lance pretended he could see the glowing, white walls of the palace past the tall buildings and hills. He closed his eyes and thought of his sister sitting surrounded by petals as she read a book, the tiny bird landing on a branch nearby to whisper that Lance was alive and missed her. It would be quiet there, with only the wind to be heard and laughter from courtiers and maids sneaking through the palace halls.

Around Lance, the sounds of the city dragged him back to the present — random shouts, slamming doors and shutters, fabric snapping on the lines. Scents swirled around him of old grease and fetid waste. But for each awful smell was a thread of something happy like ripening fruit, fresh-cut grasses, and cooking spices. Even here in the crowded city, there were faint trickles of giggling children or mothers singing together while drumming on whatever was available.

There was an energy to this community that was different than anything Lance had experienced before. It was fierce, tenacious, and hopeful. The people here dreamed of far more than a once in a lifetime trip to the palace. Perhaps that seemed obvious, and it was obvious to him now, but it wasn’t something he’d ever stopped to think about previously. Why not? Why hadn’t he ever paused to wonder what it was his citizens strived for?

“What are you doing?” a familiar voice hissed.

Lance threw himself to his stomach and crawled to peek over the side of the building. There was Keith, stormy eyes scowling up at the top of Lance’s head. As much as Lance was a prince and did not cower, he found himself curling up like a toddler who’d stolen all the sweets from the kitchen. “Welcome home?”

“Get inside!” Keith snapped, his voice only loud enough for Lance to hear. “And I swear if you fall off that roof, I’ll tie you to a chair tomorrow.”

Lance rolled his eyes and only barely managed to refrain from calling Keith a nagging hen. He rolled away from the door to the spot he’d climbed up. Carefully, he eased himself down as he gripped the raised edge of the roof, his toes searching for the window sill. No sooner had he made contact with the ledge than two big hands gripped his waist to steady him as he climbed inside.

Keith opened his mouth on what Lance presumed was a long-winded lecture, but Shiro beat him to it with a concerned, “Why were you out in the open?”

It was unfair of Shiro to sound so sweet. Keith’s anger would have been easier to argue, but now Lance just felt guilty. He turned away with a pout, ignoring Shiro’s fearful eyes and Keith’s crossed arms. “Nobody’s going to recognize me in this thing, and the heavy wind hid my smell.”

To be honest, it was likely that nobody would recognize him in the borrowed shirt and pants either, considering how they hung off his frame. Even with Lance’s semi-successful attempt to mend the shirt, the outfit looked tattered and stained. Now, in the grey frills of the tunic, it was more likely that people would purposefully look away in order to not suffer the sight of him.

“You guys are home early,” Lance said before either of them could get going.

“Everyone was sent home to prepare for the storm,” Shiro said.

“No, we’re not avoiding the issue here!” Keith jumped in and returned the glare Lance shot him.

“There’s no issue!” Lance complained. “Nobody saw me.”

“This time,” Keith responded ominously. “What happens when you get too confident and start wandering around?”

“I wouldn’t!” Lance spluttered. “I’m not an idiot. I am well aware someone is trying to kill me. That doesn’t mean I don’t have the right to see the sun!”

“It’s not safe,” Shiro said in a placid voice he likely hoped would calm both of them. “I know it’s been boring stuck indoors but—”

“Being bored isn’t a good excuse!” Keith cut in as he shut the windows with a sharp clack.

“It’s not about that!” Lance immediately bristled in defense. He paced the small area, shoulders tense as he felt the eyes of the alphas on him though he kept his own eyes on the jute rug under his feet. “You wouldn’t like having nothing to do but stare at a wall and wonder if your family was being manipulated because of your absence either! Do you have any idea how many important meetings I’ve missed? What good options are there for them? If I’m sick for this long, we look weak. If they admit I’ve been kidnapped — likely killed — then we look vulnerable. A collection of islands aren’t exactly easy to defend from determined invaders.”

Lance ran his hands through his hair, noting how strange it felt now that it wasn’t being washed and treated with scented oils regularly. What an unexpected parallel to his life. He was still Lance, but he felt different, warped by his circumstances, confined within the limited boundaries of what this new situation could provide. Shiro and Keith couldn’t understand. This was home to them, but try as they may to make it otherwise, it was a prison for Lance.

“You’re prepared for these scenarios, aren’t you?” Keith asked, crossing his arms. Lance looked up at him in surprise as Shiro said Keith’s name in warning. “What? It’s true, isn’t it? The palace is full of people from other countries during the dry season. You said yourself that someone trying to kill you wasn’t a surprise. So obviously, you have a plan.”

“I…” Lance took a breath as he internally shook himself. “Yeah. I mean… We’ve been taught what to do to avoid captors since birth, and what to say if someone is held for ransom—”

“Then your family isn’t helpless,” Keith summed up with finality.

Lance fidgetted. “But my captors don’t have me! Who knows if I’m being ransomed or if they staged my death—”

“They would have had to prove it was you with your scent or your hair or something. They don’t have that.”

“My clothes were left in the hacienda—”

“If they only send clothes and nothing written in your hand at the very least, will your family believe it?” Keith challenged.

Probably not. Lance frowned as he took that in, the logic he should have considered now forcibly cutting through his panic. “But other dignitaries are still going to take advantage of my absence! What if they manipulate trade to their favor by accusing me of being lax—”

“So what?” Keith’s eyebrows dipped down and set as if higher market values wouldn’t have an impact on his already thin funds.

“That affects more than the palace!” Lance argued, tossing his hands in the air.

“We’ve suffered through shit like this before,” Keith shot back. “So there’s a year with higher costs for wheat. Oh well. We eat more seafood than normal. Next year won’t be as bad, it never is. _We_ ,” Keith threw his arm out to indicate the rest of the city, “are the ones who deal with the consequences of _your_ deals. We know how to survive a bad year.” He jabbed a finger into Lance’s chest. “But what is the point of worrying about this if you get yourself killed because of it?”

Lance slapped Keith’s hand away with a frown, taking a step back. “Well someone should worry about it! I’m the only one with a sense of urgency here—”

“Not showing up at work is way more suspicious than—”

“I know that—”

“Alright, enough,” Shiro cut in. He placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder until the alpha huffed and looked away. Satisfied, Shiro stepped forward to brush his hand through Lance’s hair, and it was unfair how much tension drained from Lance because of it. “No one blames you for being worried. You have a lot on your mind in your position.”

“I do,” Lance agreed, bottom lip jutted out more than was acceptable given his rank.

“We’re doing our best to help as quickly as we can, but asking around for information without people getting suspicious means we can’t let on that this is urgent. Finding out exactly where Florona’s family lives, acquiring the right clothes to blend in with the upper city, and finding a way to get there without calling attention to ourselves all takes time.”

Lance stared at his feet as he dug a toe into the loops of the rug. “I know that,” he muttered.

“We do have some leads,” Shiro admitted. “We aren’t sure if they’ll pan out, so we didn’t want to get your hopes up, but we were able to contact a trader who occasionally does business in the upper city. We might be able to get a job for the day helping to move stock. If we could hide you in the cart somehow…”

Shiro was right, it was dangerous to tell Lance and get his hopes up. Something fluttered against his ribcage and made it all the more difficult to think about sitting still, locked away, cut off from what all was happening in the world. He felt so useless. Couldn’t he be using his trained omega control to get people to help him? To help all of them? At the very least, he should be helping with this job, posing as another laborer instead of a stowaway likely to have everyone staring at him if caught.

Would whoever was after him be looking in the city, especially around the areas of anyone associated with him? How would Shiro and Keith be able to get to Florona before she reached her family’s home? Surely casual questions weren’t going to get them detailed information about her route through the city and what time she planned to visit.

Leaves rustled as Lance fisted the hem of his tunic. He felt Shiro and Keith share a look over his head, but he didn’t want to see what it was. He knew he was being emotional and likely had anxiety slipping through the commands he was shouting at his scent glands. This was all the more apparent when the musky scent of spring blooms filled the space just before Shiro wrapped Lance securely in his arms.

“It’s going to be alright,” Shiro promised.

Lance closed his eyes and tried to believe that.

꧁___꧂

The storm raged through most of the night. The windows dripped with incoming rain, and water rose enough to leak in under the front door. It didn’t cause much damage as there wasn’t much furniture to affect. In fact, sweeping out the collected water afterwards helped to clean the floors of ingrained dirt that Keith and Shiro never got around to scrubbing after long days at the mill.

For some reason Keith couldn’t fathom, Lance was bothered by the water. Extremely bothered by it. He was nervous and anxious all morning, randomly bursting with the sudden smell of something achingly sad before the prince managed to get his scent under control. Keith could only frown every time he caught a whiff of it, though Shiro had a knowing look that he didn’t bother to share the meaning behind.

As Lance fretted with beating the jute rug dry, Shiro pulled Keith to the side. “I can tell Iverson that you’re dealing with storm damage here,” he whispered. “Why don’t you take the day off and keep an eye on him?”

Keith wanted to argue, but one look at Lance’s agitated movements was enough to make him worried. If being bored had caused Lance to make stupid decisions the day before, who knew what he’d pull today in the state he was in. Keith hated missing a day of work, but he could always make up the hours later. Iverson was good about that when it came to workers needing time off for home damage or sickness.

“Talk to him,” Shiro insisted into Keith’s silence.

“You’re the talker,” Keith grumbled.

Shiro smiled, the corner of his lip quirking high in a teasing way. “Practice makes perfect.”

Keith rolled his eyes but said nothing more. He stood aside and let Shiro explain that he was heading into work alone. Lance went through many emotions, from petulant at the idea of a babysitter to terrified that he’d done something to upset Shiro. Keith leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and watched the scene.

Shiro reached up and brushed his fingers through the hair at Lance’s temple with a fond smile that the prince returned, blue eyes sparkling. It should have bothered Keith. He was bothered that he wasn’t bothered. It had always been like that with Lance. Where were Keith’s protective instincts for his mate? Were they missing simply because Lance was an omega in danger?

There were too many questions, and the only source for an answer was Lance, who Keith wasn’t about to ask. So he kept his mouth shut and let Shiro drop a lingering kiss on his lips before heading out with a wave at them both. Once the door shut, Lance turned to Keith with a small smile.

“Shiro’s nice,” was all he said.

“Yeah, he is.”

Lance sighed and sat on the bench by the window, fidgeting with the rug still in his hands. He didn’t look up at Keith, but it wasn’t out of anger, annoyance, or distrust. Rather, he appeared just as awkward as Keith felt. For all that they argued, they didn’t know how to talk to one another. As much as Keith wanted to blame that entirely on Lance, he knew better. Lance and Shiro got along just fine without Lance being an elitist asshole.

No, the problem was Keith didn’t know how to interact with people. That had never really bothered him before, since he only cared about Shiro. They could talk just fine. But now he was feeling embarrassed about his social skills for the first time in years. He was irrationally angry at Lance for making him feel this way, though logic said that was unfair.

Frowning, he scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“You wanna talk about it?” Keith asked before he lost his nerve.

Lance huffed through his nose. “You don’t want to hear a prince complain, right?” Despite the words, he didn’t sound particularly confrontational. Instead, he sounded unsure, scared.

Keith frowned before walking over and dropping onto the bench beside Lance. “You don’t get rain in the palace or something?”

There was silence for a long while before Lance carefully set down the rug and then leaned back against the wall. He kept his eyes on the ceiling above him. “The palace is constructed better. It doesn’t leak or flood.”

“The palace approved these buildings.” Keith did his best to keep the heat out of his voice to match Lance’s neutral tone. There was no point in “talking” if they just ended up in an argument again, right? Well, at least that’s something Shiro would probably say…

“I know.” Lance frowned, the blue in his eyes darkening like the skies before a storm. “I’ve approved a lot of building projects over the years. So has my father. We know that the schematics brought to us are best case scenarios. Things can change depending on weather, space, materials needed, complications during construction…”

Keith considered what it was Lance was trying to say. “These buildings were made before your time, right? They’re because of the Demon Wave refugees.”

Lance closed his eyes. “Yeah. They were considered a grand success, and the plans were used on multiple islands.” Lance waved his arm as if he were imagining said islands in his head. “I signed off on a lot of them. Do you know what they look like on paper?”

“Not this?” Keith guessed.

“Not this.”

Another long pause between them as that sunk in. It hadn’t occurred to Keith that the reason Lance had been defensive about his duties back in the palace was because he didn’t know that his decisions were being changed. And nobody was telling him. Keith would have been furious in Lance’s place, seeing the lower city with his own eyes. In contrast, Lance appeared defeated.

“You didn’t stay at the orphanage,” Lance said, his voice almost too steady as he spoke. “You lived on the street.” He didn’t open his eyes. “Was the street better?”

Right. Lance had seen to all the orphanages built recently. Keith remembered now. If a week ago he’d been asked to detail all of his grievances about the city to the royal court, he could have talked all day. Now, he felt strangely conflicted about it. Lance wasn’t the pompous paragon of neglect that Keith had assumed, but hiding the truth wasn’t going to help anything.

“Yes and no,” Keith admitted. “There were plenty that preferred it there, but the matrons hated that I wasn’t Ontillian. They took any chance to beat me, and they always fed me last. I heard them debating whether to put me out in order to make room for more children, back when there were only the two buildings in the capital. I figured it was better to steal what I needed and run than wait on them to lock me out with nothing.”

“Are they still alive? I’ll fire them.”

Keith snorted. “No idea.”

Lance opened his eyes and watched the steady drip of water still jumping down the slats of the shutters. After a few moments, he took a deep breath and turned to Keith. “Do you think I’m a bad prince?”

 _No,_ Keith thought and was surprised at how quick that came to mind. If he were honest with himself, he truly didn’t know. This conversation and a few comments at the palace were all he knew of how Lance ruled. Did he just want to comfort the sad omega or did he really see potential in what Lance was trying to accomplish?

“I think you’re trying to make turrones without all the ingredients,” Keith said instead.

The corner of Lance’s mouth tipped up. “Are you trying to be nice to me? It’s creepy.”

Keith kicked Lance’s foot. “I’m being serious. Stop making decisions without all the facts.”

Lance frowned again as he leaned his forearms against his knees, his hair curling around his face as he hung his head. “What happens when nobody else knows those ‘facts’ either? It’s a long chain of people lying until it gets to me. How do I fix that?”

“Well…” Keith stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankle. “At least you’re talking about your future ruling this place rather than acting like you’re stuck here forever.”

“I—” Lance tensed in surprise before turning back to Keith and pulling a face. “You’re distracting me from my existential dread.”

“Good. Your dread is annoying.”

Surprisingly, Lance grinned. “You’d make a good advisor.”

Keith snorted. “Anyone could, compared to your current flock of clucking birds.”

That pulled a snicker out of Lance. He launched into a tale of people whose names, titles, and jobs Keith didn’t know, but Lance was animated when relaying the story, painting the perfect picture of pinched faced men and women complaining about bugs in their drinks. Keith knew from experience that he strangely didn’t mind Lance’s rambling tales, but now it filled him with a satisfied feeling knowing that he’d drawn Lance from whatever dark place he’d been all morning.

Was this what friendship felt like? He hadn’t had many friends over the years, so it was hard to say. He’d been friends with Shiro at first, but that had developed. It was when Keith had finally felt safe in his own skin once more that he began noticing little things about Shiro, like the broad shoulders and the tuck of his waist. Shiro’s smile made Keith’s heart flutter, and Shiro’s ass had heat pooling in Keith’s gut.

Lance was nothing like Shiro. Keith turned to assess the omega. Lance was slim, his skin unmarred and perfectly tan. His hair was short but styled, curling just slightly at the tips. His smile was wide and cocky, teeth pearly white. His shoulders were narrow, body lithe, legs and arms all sinewy. His neck… his neck was long, narrow, and smooth in a way that had saliva pooling in Keith’s mouth.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Keith’s eyes snapped to Lance’s, the blue there was brighter now, sparkling with interest and a touch of lust, something Keith was coming to recognize. Lance’s words filtered into Keith’s mind a moment later, but there was no accusation in them, just genuine curiosity. Lance had been happy, calm, and in control the entire time Keith had been staring. There were no pheromones in the air altering his perception.

“I—” Keith cut himself off. He didn’t have an answer, not really. He’d only meant to cast a quick glance to prove that Lance and Shiro were different, and they were, but it was supposed to verify that Keith only preferred Shiro’s body type.

But that wasn’t true, was it? Keith had been afraid of alphas that looked like Shiro most of his life, though he was loath to admit that aloud. Shiro was the exception. What would Keith have said he preferred prior to meeting and falling in love with Shiro? He likely would have wanted someone smaller than him but unbothered by that, masculine but with hints of soft beauty. He loved the idea of someone that wasn’t weak and could challenge Keith’s dominance but still beg to be taken hard. Someone like—

“Fuck,” Keith whispered, realizing too late how close to Lance he was now. He could feel the heat from the man’s shirtless body, smell the natural scent that blended with their surroundings of fresh, rain-cleaned air. He could see in detail the curl of hair that rested on Lance’s temple, too close to his eye. Keith reached up and brushed it back.

Lance swallowed. “You smell really good.”

“Mm?” Keith watched Lance’s smooth lips as they moved. “What do I smell like?”

The blue of Lance’s eyes were further eclipsed by pupils before being hooded with lowered lashes. Lance took a shuddering breath. “Like burning… like hot, fresh…” He blinked slowly. “Like sex.”

Commoner alphas weren’t taught how to keep control of their scent in the same way Lance was able to wield his like a weapon. Keith’s emotions were too easy to tell usually, and people complained about that often. They called him prickly and abrasive before he’d ever spoken a word. The neighbor would regularly ask if Keith had burned dinner or if it was just him.

“Sex” was not the description people used, even when Keith was close to his rut.

“You like it?” Keith murmured. He was so close now. When had that happened? Lance’s eyelashes were so dark…

“Y-yeah, I do.” Lance tilted his head up, lips parted, body sinking into Keith’s space.

Their lips met. Keith didn’t remember moving, but there they were, the sensitive skin brushing feather-light against each other. _Pull back,_ some distant part of Keith’s mind said, but Lance whimpered in desperation, drowning out whatever reasoning the tiny voice might have said. The tip of Lance’s tongue flickered over Keith’s lips, and that was the end of rational thought.

Surging forward, Keith claimed Lance’s mouth, molding the soft lips to his, prying them open, delving inside. One hand smoothed up that long neck, thumb grazing along the scent gland, causing Lance to shiver. Keith’s fingers sank into the short, brown curls, fisting the hair just hard enough so he could swallow down Lance’s resulting groan.

Keith’s other hand slid up the thin torso, fingertips playing with the defined muscle, palm cupping the curve of ribs. Lance arched into it, his own hands wrapping around Keith to clutch at shoulder and back as if he were afraid of floating away at any moment. It felt good like this, the hot, hot air building between them, the taste of their mouths mingling, their combined scents swirling in the space around them, urging them on.

 _I don’t have to be careful with him,_ his instincts shouted. _I can take and take and take, and he’d be happy to keep giving._ Lance would, Keith knew. It was no secret how much Lance loved to be taken hard and rough, in a way not even Shiro could handle. It was precisely why Keith had kept Shiro between them as a buffer. It was safer that way.

Otherwise, Keith would… he would…

“Please,” Lance whispered into Keith’s mouth after they’d broken away long enough to gasp for air.

Whatever meager self-control Keith had snapped. He shoved Lance back against the wall and devoured him — his mouth, his jaw, his long, long neck. Lance was something wild, writhing and tearing at Keith’s clothes. The bench couldn’t take their bodies pushing and pulling at one another and tipped, sending them rolling onto the damp, jute rug. Lance fought to get his hands on Keith while Keith fought to pin him.

Keith won.

He bared his teeth and growled, sinking into instincts he’d kept at bay for too many years to count. Lance stuck his chin in the air and smirked as his knee wiggled between Keith’s legs and pressed up into the hard, bare flesh there. Keith felt like he was burning inside. This was beyond what he’d ever done before, it was unknown, and he loved it.

The two of them grappled across the floor together, scraping knees, kicking furniture, and biting at flesh. Whoever had told Keith that omegas were soft and submissive had no idea what they were talking about. _This_ was what Keith’s alpha had dreamed of. _This_ was what satisfied him straight to the core of his being.

They were sweating by the time Lance was pinned on his stomach, and Keith’s teeth sank into the pretty, slim neck. Lance moaned, long and loud, his hips raising as if pulled by a string to present. Oh fuck, that was hot — perfect, beautiful, _yes, yes, yes_. Keith’s cock was suddenly demanding attention, throbbing with a need he’d been too distracted to notice prior. The smell of slick and aroused omega was thick in the air, filling his nose, coating his throat.

“You want it?” Keith rasped, rutting his hips through Lance’s cheeks to feel the wet there. He kept his hands where they were, one pinning Lance’s wrist to his back, the other pressing Lance’s shoulder to the floor to keep him pinned.

“Yes! Please, I need it.” Lance whined. “Fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

“You have such a filthy little mouth,” Keith said, moving his lips to press against Lance’s ear. “Is that why you take cock in it so well?”

Lance moaned and wiggled his hips, desperate for more. “I love it. I love it. Yes. Please.”

“Good boy,” Keith growled. Lance’s resulting moan amplified when rewarded by Keith’s cock slowly sinking inside.

 _Ohhh, fuuuck,_ was the only coherent thought he had. It was hot and wet and pulsing around him in a way he’d never experienced before. It was good, so good, like he was made to fit here — like they should have done this ages ago.

 _Did Shiro feel like this?_ something distant in his mind wondered. _Why does it feel like this?_

It was just a hole. A warm, slick hole that he could fuck, but at the same time, it satisfied something deep inside of him. Was it because this was an omega? Was it just their bodies aligning right? No, that didn’t feel like the answer he was looking for. What it felt like… What it felt like was—

He moved his hips, hard and fast, overwhelming his own mind so he couldn’t think anymore. Lance jerked and moaned at the feeling, panting hard, his hips moving as much as they could in return. Keith released his hold, knowing that Lance wasn’t going to run now, which was true. Instead, Lance just moved into a better position to brace himself while baring his neck.

It was tempting. Way too tempting.

“You want my bite?” Keith demanded, tilting his hips and bringing their hips together in a hard slap of skin, over and over, faster and faster. Lance wailed.

Keith wrapped his hand around Lance’s gaping, drooling mouth. The neighbors were nosy, and Lance wasn’t used to being quiet. Keith stuffed his fingers inside to muffle the noise. Lance’s tongue immediately licked and lavished the digits with attention. Keith hissed air through his teeth. The damned omega was so shameless…

The hair at the nape of Lance’s neck slid to either side, making the tanned skin there that much more alluring. Keith had bitten before, and it had been fine. He just had to keep himself under control. No breaking the skin. He wasn’t allowed to mark a prince.

No matter how much he wanted to mark Lance.

Something strange tightened in his chest at that realization. It was almost like he wanted to keep Lance, here in Keith and Shiro’s home, safe and protected. But not just trapped in these walls, no, Keith wanted to show Lance the city in a way he’d been denied before. The prince didn’t know about the people and their lives here, the music and dancing, the kids playing in the street, the vendors and food, the games and laughter, the easy atmosphere.

This was Lance’s home, yet he knew little of it. If he were to stay here… If he were to—

Keith could feel his knot growing bigger than he could remember. Is that what happened around omega pheromones? Shit, it _ached._ He needed it inside, squeezed and wet, milked for all it was worth or else he’d explode. He snarled, which pulled a series of high, staccato moans from Lance, punctuated by the snap of Keith’s hips.

 _Inside, inside, inside,_ Keith’s body screamed. He couldn’t deny it. The urge was growing stronger, bigger, coiling tight in his gut like nothing before. He felt damn near ready to explode. His vision tunneled a bit on the edges as he surged forward and sank his teeth into Lance’s neck, right on the gland, barely keeping enough of his mind to stop from breaking skin. At the same time, he snapped his hips forward hard, popping his knot into place.

Lance’s muffled scream was barely heard through the rushing in Keith’s ears, but the trembling and inner muscles clenching rhythmically were something Keith was hyper-aware of. It made his orgasm harder, longer, washing over him with bone-jarring intensity. His jaw locked in place.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid there before realizing that it was over. Lance was limp below Keith, drooling a puddle around the fingers still stuffed in his mouth. Keith’s cock continued to twitch, still shooting small bursts of cum inside of Lance. They were locked together by Keith’s knot which felt like he’d die if he tried to remove it.

“Holy shit,” Keith breathed.

The expletive set Lance to purring. Under the heady smell of sex and satisfaction was a thread of something extremely pleased. Likely, Lance enjoyed knowing that he’d just blown Keith’s mind. After all, when they first met, Lance had been extremely confident in his sexual prowess. It had felt like royal delusions at the time, but currently, Keith’s dick was singing Lance’s praises.

Lance said something garbled, and it was only then that Keith thought to pull his fingers away. He did so, lifting his head enough to gaze at the spit dripping from them. He should find that gross, but he really, really didn’t.

“You’re so big,” Lance mumbled, a smile in his voice. It effectively stroked Keith’s alpha ego. When Keith didn’t respond, Lance clenched his inner muscles, and it caused Keith to wince and growl before shuddering as another aftershock of his intense orgasm hit him. Lance giggled to himself, and Keith’s sensitive knot could feel that too.

“Stop it,” Keith snarled.

“I love how big your knot is,” Lance said with a dreamy sigh that picked up Keith’s burgeoning annoyance and tossed it out the window.

“Fuck,” Keith huffed before he nuzzled at the back of Lance’s neck, causing a purr so loud it rattled his chest. His cheek felt wet, and he pulled back long enough to look at the mark he’d made. It wasn’t bleeding, but the impression of his teeth was there and the skin was a dark red and purple in the small divots. It would definitely bruise.

He wasn’t supposed to mark the prince.

Keith felt high with the satisfaction that he’d marked Lance.

Lazy blue eyes turned to grin up at Keith. “You’re big and strong enough to go again, right?” Lance drawled.

The challenge had Keith’s lips pulling back from his teeth before he even thought about it. He leaned close to Lance’s face. “I’m gonna make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.”

Lance shivered with excitement. “You promise?”

꧁___꧂

It was late by the time Shiro made it home. The storm had made a mess of the mill as well, so the morning had been spent cleaning up before the day’s work could start. There were many people absent due to dealing with their own homes, but most showed up after noon. In the end, they’d managed to complete the day’s work so that production wouldn’t fall behind for the week.

Shiro had been a bit nervous about coming home to find Keith and Lance at each other’s throats. He had hoped all day that they hadn’t spent the entire time arguing. Then again, at least it would be a distraction for Lance. Still, Shiro would likely spend most of the night calming Keith down enough to get them all in bed.

What Shiro wasn’t expecting was for the house to be dark and reeking with the smell of sex. He hurried to shut the door and stood blinking into the dim light until his eyes could adjust. Soft, muffled snores came from behind the closed bedroom door. Were the both of them already asleep?

Then his eyes began to pick out shapes in the shadows and saw Keith sitting at the table, silent and withdrawn. Shiro carefully set his bag down and toed off his shoes before moving over to sit by Keith. Still, his mate didn’t move. The smell of ash hung in the air around him, barely noticeable through the musky scent of pleasure permeating everything else.

“Hey,” Shiro whispered. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

As if that were the magic spell, Keith began to tremble, tiny choked sobs catching in his throat. Shiro moved without thinking, pulling the man into his body and holding on tight. Keith’s hands fisted into Shiro’s shirt, his face turning into Shiro’s neck so that all he would smell was Shiro. It took a long while for Keith to regain enough control to speak.

“I love you,” Keith said, as if trying to convince Shiro.

“I know. I feel it every day,” Shiro promised. “I love you, too.”

“I’m happy with _you_ ,” Keith insisted, as if arguing with some unspoken statement. “I love you, and I’m happy here. Happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Keith, what happened?” Shiro asked, keeping his voice calm and reassuring.

“I knotted him,” Keith whispered like a sin.

Well, Shiro had already guessed that Lance and Keith had had sex. That much was obvious. He hadn’t had much time to think about that, but he did now. They’d all three been together multiple times, and he hadn’t thought it was affecting their relationship in any way. Keith had even agreed, right up until this moment. So what happened?

“I did as well—” Shiro tried but was interrupted.

“No!” Keith began to shake. “I don’t understand. Why did it feel like that? Why do I want him when I still want you? I _need_ you!”

“It was just instinct,” Shiro promised, but Keith shook his head and sobbed.

“He didn’t smell like anything. I kissed _him_.” Keith made a pained noise like he was about to be rejected and pushed away. It was the same noise he’d made the first day Shiro had gone to work alone after they’d finally gotten together.

Shiro squeezed Keith tight. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I knotted him! I don’t want it to feel like that. I love you. I love _you_.”

“Shhh…” Shiro rocked them gently, running his hand up and down Keith’s back. “I love you, Keith. Nothing is going to change that. Nobody is going to come between us. I know that.”

“Why does it feel like this? I don’t want this. He’s going to—” Keith choked off and began to cry.

 _He’s going to leave._ Shiro knew it as well, and there was also a part of him desperate to hold on to something he knew that they couldn’t. His protective instincts aside, he cared for Lance in a way that was unexpected. Except, he was better able to parse and analyze those feelings. Keith wasn’t. Until Shiro, Keith had been afraid of love in any form.

Accepting his feelings for Shiro and learning how to handle them had been hard for Keith, and he’d made it known multiple times that Shiro was the only person he could ever care for in that way. Shiro was wise enough to know that wasn’t true, but Keith had internalized it as an unshakeable truth. He didn’t know how to handle his world changing from the safety his mind had formed with those beliefs.

Whether Keith cared for Lance as one would a close friend, or a crush, or something deeper that should be explored was hard to say. Keith would need to overcome his knee-jerk reaction of fear first before picking apart the differences of things he’d never experienced before. They would talk it out, work through it bit by bit, but that was something for the future. For now, Keith needed to process out the clashing emotions he was experiencing. Shiro would hold the pieces together until then.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” Shiro soothed. “I’ll always be here. I promise.”

“Just you,” Keith said, voice thick with tears.

“Always.”

As caught up in each other as they were, neither of them noticed that beyond the bedroom door, the quiet snores had stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to use the phrase "You're trying to make a cake without all the ingredients" but that didn't suit the location or Keith's class, so I substituted with turrones. (ha! Substituted. Ya know. Like in baking. ... _coughs_ anywho)
> 
> Angst! Whatever will the boys do?


	7. Chapter 7

Lance spent the morning in bed and did not consider leaving it until after the alphas had gone. He told them he was tired and sore, he said it was normal, and they didn’t know any better than to believe him. Perhaps they would have noticed how closed off his scent was or how he wouldn’t look them in the eye, but they were distracted by one another. So they left, and Lance continued to lie in bed, staring at the wall long after.

He had thought…

Yesterday had been a whirlwind of sex — the best sex of his life. Keith was brutal but caring, showering Lance with careful touches and affection after each round. The alpha was easy to rile up, and the results were well worth it. Lance had been beyond happy. Prior to their marathon sex around the small home, he’d assumed that Shiro was willing to be a friend and Keith was willing to suffer through it.

But the sex had proved different. The way Keith moved, the way he tended to Lance after, and the look in his stormy eyes, all of it said he was fond of Lance — _wanted_ Lance. Not as a prince or omega, but just for who Lance was. It was everything he’d ever craved without truly realizing it.

Shiro and Keith were two alphas who were not required to make Lance happy, not required to _choose_ him, and they did anyways. He’d grown attached. He found himself craving more. He wanted to know what the future between them would look like after this was all over. Hell, he had _hope_ that these strange circumstances would be over soon with a happy ending because they both believed it to be true.

And then it was all shattered.

It would have been easier if Keith was mad, or if he’d point-blank rejected Lance. It would have been fine if Keith had simply said, “This was a one time thing because we’re stressed, but I’m devoted only to my mate.” That would have been understandable. Lance might have been a bit disappointed, but he could respect that. Instead, Keith had cried.

 _I knotted him! I don’t want this!_ The words swirled in Lance’s head, round and round, round and round. _Why does it feel like this?_

Was it Lance’s fault? Had he not noticed his scent releasing? Had he controlled Keith without realizing it? No, Keith had been resistant to Lance in the past. More than that, Lance was certain that he was keeping his omega under control, desperate to not let them know how upset he was about the terrible homes his family had approved being built and patted themselves on the back for.

So Keith was upset about one thing: Lance himself. It had been spur of the moment, a day-long lapse in judgement, and Keith regretted it. Lance was in the way, ruining their relationship. They didn’t actually want him to be here, they were just appeasing him for the time being until they could be rid of him. It made sense. They were poor enough, and Lance was yet another burden in their lives they couldn’t refuse. They likely didn’t expect any kind of compensation for this. They must assume Lance was going to forget about them, about this neighborhood, about everything, the second his foot landed inside the gates of the palace.

Lance curled up tighter in the thin sheets. He would pay them for their service, whether they wanted it or not. He’d send someone to handle it so he wouldn’t have to see them again. Maybe he’d send an advisor just to force someone to come see the lower cities with their own eyes so they could better inform Lance about what was happening with the lower class.

 _I should go to Florona immediately._ Even if he still had to hide, it was better to stay with her family than here. Anyplace but here.

Tears burned at the back of his eyes, and he stubbornly squeezed his eyelids shut against the feeling. He wasn’t about to cry over this. He didn’t have the right. He was ruining _their_ lives, not the other way around. He rolled over with the intent to get out of bed at last, but it brought attention to the aches in his body. Normally, he would have loved the sore feeling of being so thoroughly fucked. Now though, it was a reminder of everything that had gone wrong, of how unwanted he was, of how he couldn’t stop making mistakes that hurt people.

“I just want to go home,” he whispered.

The empty house did not respond.

꧁___꧂

Shiro tried a few times to get Keith to talk on the way home, but he clearly wasn’t ready to. He did seem calmer than he had since last night, so that was one upside. Likely, Lance’s quiet, reserved behavior this morning had left Keith more confused than he’d been before. Shiro just wanted to fix it all with a wave of his hand, but he knew better than anyone that these things took time.

When they arrived home, Lance was sitting at the trestle table, staring at a cup of water. He smiled up at them with a greeting, but there was tension on the edges of his lips. Shiro asked how Lance was feeling but it was the same answer he’d received at dawn, “just omega issues.” He wondered if that was true or if Keith’s distressed scent was bothering Lance.

“We have good news,” Shiro said, hoping to lighten the mood. “Pidge has an order coming up and will need help with the delivery. It’ll be somewhere in the residential areas of the upper city. We’ll be able to scope the place out and—”

“Is Pidge your friend?” Lance was smiling in that friendly relaxed way, but there was something serious in his eyes, something that harkened to his royal upbringing.

“We trust her,” Keith said, defensive over one of the only friends he could claim to have. He set their basket on the table and removed the contents, breaking up the sparse dinner evenly.

“Do you think she would know who Florona is? Or at least her family’s name?” Lance asked, eyes boring into Shiro’s.

“Well…” Shiro wasn’t sure what to say. Part of him believed that Pidge truly did know everyone in the city. Not personally, but simply because having the knowledge of everyone she could possibly interact with could be used to some benefit of another. It was simply her nature. That said, he didn’t want Lance making any rash decisions.

“Pidge would know,” Keith said, words clipped. He picked up his portion of food and paced to the window, leaning against the ledge as he ate and stared out at their lack of view.

Shiro frowned and sat beside Lance, picking up his own dinner. “There’s no rush.”

“There is,” Lance argued. He stared at the food in front of him like he had his water earlier. “You can’t afford to support me. I can’t provide anything. I’m a strain on both of you.”

“That’s not tr—”

“It is.” Lance looked up at Shiro with a soft smile, taking the edge off his decisive words. “I appreciate everything that you’ve done for me, but you’re both laborers. You need more food, not less.” Shiro opened his mouth, but Lance plowed on. “If I was worried before about my absence from the palace, I am more so now that I know what is truly happening in the lower cities. I need to do what I can to start changes before the diplomats leave. The rainy season is coming and trade needs to be finalized before then.”

Shiro didn’t know if he could argue that. Politics of this nature wasn’t something he was anywhere near familiar with. The matters Lance was concerned about…they didn’t just affect Shiro and Keith, they affected the entire city. It made sense that Lance was anxious to do something about it, but his safety was also a concern.

“Are you sure about this?” Shiro asked.

“We can trust Pidge,” Keith cut in, still not looking at them.

“It’s more than that,” Shiro argued. “There will be a lot of factors that we can’t account for. We don’t know who is searching for Lance or where. Surely his butler would be the first person to stake out.”

“There’s always going to be a risk, no matter what we choose,” Lance said, voice dipping into an authority that Shiro rarely heard. “I can’t leave my country vulnerable because I’m not willing to take that risk.”

Keith finally looked over to make cold, stoic eye contact with Lance who returned it much the same way. “What do you want?”

“I want your friend to deliver a message to Florona.”

Popping the last of the croqueta into his mouth, Keith wiped his hands on his pants before moving over to the shelves in the corner. He pulled down a box and brought it over to the table. Shiro pursed his lips in concern as Keith proceeded to pull out paper and a thin graphite stick. Lance took them without comment and proceeded to write a quick letter in elegant looping handwriting.

“I’ll bring it to Pidge tonight so she can deliver it tomorrow,” Keith said as he watched. His face was too carefully neutral, body held taught. Shiro wished there was some way to ease this tension between them all, but what could he have done? Keith needed time, and Lance didn’t have it.

“Thank you,” Lance said, holding out the now folded paper to Keith. Their fingers brushed, and Keith’s jaw set tight. Not pausing to say anything more, Keith grabbed his cloak from the hook and left.

Shiro watched his mate’s back as the door swung shut before turning back to Lance. Whatever showed on his face had the prince bleeding away to the friend underneath that Lance was slowly becoming. He offered Shiro a smile and took hold of his hand. “This is for the best.”

“I’m worried about you,” Shiro said, squeezing Lance’s oddly cold fingers.

“I know, but I’m worried about you, too.” Lance turned back to their untouched meal but didn’t attempt to eat any of it. “I shouldn’t be coming between the two of you.”

“You’re not,” Shiro promised.

A melancholy smile tugged at Lance’s lips. “You’re kind, Shiro.”

For all that Shiro knew what to say to his friends and how to get through to Keith even when the alpha was at his most stubborn, Shiro was at a loss in this moment. Lance was undeniably an expert in hiding his emotions or redirecting conversation he didn’t want to have. That was likely what his life was at the palace, something he’d been trained for and practiced daily. Seeing Lance free to speak as he pleased was a privilege that Shiro hasn’t realized he’d had until this moment.

“I hope it’s not overstepping for me to say that I see you as my friend,” Shiro said with all the sincerity he could muster. It was the only thing he could offer Lance at the moment.

Something desperate burned in Lance’s eyes. He shut them and took a deep breath before turning to Shiro, his face a mask of practiced pleasantry with a clear crack down the middle of an emotion too complicated to name. “Me, too.”

It was late when Keith returned. Shiro still sat at the table, marveling that he’d managed to eat, but then, after a long day at the mill, there was little that could kill his appetite completely. Lance was in bed, the door to the bedroom cracked. Shiro couldn’t explain why his instincts were screaming at him to watch over Lance in every little way possible when there wasn’t a single trace of the omega’s smell in the air.

Perhaps it was that lack of scent that bothered Shiro so much.

“How’d it go?” Shiro asked, keeping his voice soft.

Keith hung up his cloak before walking over to lean his butt against the table, arms crossed, eyes firmly locked on the far wall. “Pidge knows who the butler is. She said she can deliver the message tomorrow without anyone else knowing about it and get back to us with an answer. I’ve rarely seen her look that excited about something, though.”

“Maybe she wants an adventure.”

“She just wants to have the royal family in her debt so she can sell to them.”

Shiro huffed a laugh. “Probably so.” Underneath it all, Pidge was a good person and would have done it anyways, Shiro knew. That didn’t make her any less of the smartest businessperson in town.

They were quiet for a time. Eventually, the tension eased in Keith’s shoulders, and he turned to look at the cracked door and the steady breathing of the person beyond. He said nothing, only looked, his scent curling through the air on a wave of varying emotions. Shiro’s heart squeezed for his mate.

“Maybe you two should talk before he leaves,” Shiro said.

Keith turned his head away, once more staring straight ahead. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Shiro waited for a long moment before he asked, “Are you sure this is best?”

It wasn’t just Lance’s risky decision to send a message and trust a third person with his whereabouts, it was also Keith’s stubbornness. Once Lance left, there may never be another chance to clear the air between them. For all that Shiro had allowed Keith to grow used to being given time to deal with his inner turmoil, now was a scenario in which they didn’t have that luxury. And nothing Shiro could do would change that.

“We’re commoners, Shiro,” Keith said. There was a hint of anger in his voice, as if he was trying to force through his old bitterness with Lance’s status and failing. “We live in two different worlds. We can’t cross that line, even now. That’s just how it is.”

“Things can change.” When Keith remained silent, Shiro pushed. “We all change, eventually. It’s a fact of life.”

Keith’s fingers dug into his arms, saying without words, “I’m scared of that.” Shiro stood immediately and pulled his mate into his arms. Keith went willingly. For a long time, they simply held each other, basking in the comfort the other provided in this simple moment in time where everything stood still and remained the same. Tomorrow, change would happen, one way or another, and there was nothing that could stop it from happening.

꧁___꧂

Two days later, Lance was walking through the streets of the lower city. He should have still been depressed, and he was, and he should have been nervous to be an omega around so many civilians, and he was, but if he were honest…

He was fascinated.

Lance had traveled his domain multiple times, but the lower city and the slums were always carefully avoided. He’d toured the other islands growing up, but that was an expected visit where the cities put on their best behavior and lavished him with delicacies in only the finest of buildings. None of it compared to being unknown, without guards to call attention to him. People barely cast him a glance with his baggy clothes covered by a cloak in the first rays of dawn.

More than that, the city he roamed now was a complete mystery to him. Was this really his home, the one he’d grown up in since birth? He didn’t recognize it.

Around him were close-packed buildings in various bright colors, the paint chipping away in large chunks or scrapes. The cobblestone streets were uneven, and dirty puddles of water lay stagnant in the dips, never having enough time to dry up before the next rain. On the intersections of the roads, the corners of buildings were rounded and crumbling, showing nothing but raw stone, as little was there to block the bright sun, strong winds, and pummeling rain. Gates were latched before open doors to encourage the last dregs of cool night air to enter, and overhead, vining plants and flowers hung over narrow balcony rails.

They had decided to travel the city early while the streets weren’t so full, but from Lance’s perspective, there were people everywhere. Betas and alphas were walking in every direction, talking or running errands, some with baskets balanced on their heads, others with heavy bags under their arms. People lounged against walls that had unexpected paintings splashed across them that Lance didn’t understand while more people sat collected on stoops, watching the passerby.

A rickshaw driver pierced the air with a whistle to call attention to his services. A group of children ran by giggling, their feet caked in mud, bits of pilfered food already being stuffed in their mouths. They dodged a serious-looking young girl hauling a water pail who glared at them. A cat trotted by near Lance’s feet, oblivious to him. A dog sunned himself in the middle of the road, uncaring about the noise around it. In the distance, someone was tapping out simple rhythms on a steel drum. Spirals of tobacco smoke danced in the air.

“Would you stop looking around like that?” Keith whispered under his breath, not quiet enough to hide his aggravation. “You stand out. It’s clear you’re not from here.”

Lance wanted to snap back with something barbed, but he was distracted by a chicken jumping off a balcony overhead. He ducked without thinking, though it was plenty far away for it not to matter. Keith cursed under his breath. Lance couldn’t even focus on that because they crossed another intersection and down that street was a man on stilts, fixing part of a building two stories up. Lance’s feet slowed as he gaped, watching. The palace had constant repairs on it, but he was rarely allowed to be in the area when it was happening and—

“Come _on_ ,” Keith hissed, grabbing Lance’s wrist and yanking him along.

“Let’s take another route,” Shiro murmured. He abruptly turned left, passing under an arch between the line of buildings that brought them through an alleyway used for the fronts of various still-closed businesses. Lance tilted his head back to watch the climbing vines overhead, stretching and twisting around one another as they connected the rooftops. They passed strips of fluttering shadows across his face.

Too soon, their group emerged onto another road, this one crumbling into dirt along the edges, chunks of stone missing here and there in the cobbles, forcing Lance to be more aware of his footing. It was for this reason that he almost didn’t notice the market until they were upon it. There was no difference in the wall of buildings, only that to his right, the colorful stone turned into arched metal entryways that led to a cramped collection of vendors, their stalls closed off only by strips of dull brown canvas.

Lance slowed again, his eyes darting all over the place. He couldn’t take it all in, there was so much — tables with merchandise, tall wooden frames with carefully arranged stacks of clothing, hanging strings of colors that spun in the breeze. The vendors were still setting up, chatting with one another and reaching high to find more and more room for their goods. Lance was yanked along just as his eyes landed on plates and bowls painted in bright colors on uneven clay.

“Are you trying to get caught?” Keith snapped.

“But I—” Lance couldn’t finish before having to dodge a cart of fruit being pushed by a burly beta woman.

“This way,” Shiro said, placing his cut off arm on Lance’s back as a gentle guide, effectively keeping the distracted prince between the two alphas. “Are you keeping your concentration on your scent?”

Lance tensed and immediately clamped down on his control, only to realize he was doing it automatically. He’d been trained as long as he could remember to keep his scent contained while in a crowd so as not to cause an incident. Distracted wonder wasn’t a strong enough emotion to cut through that habit. Still, he should have been more aware of himself, concentrating on making sure that his presence wasn’t known by anyone they passed.

Chastised, Lance ducked his head and tugged the hood of his cloak farther forward around his face, blocking out the sights around him and focusing only on where he placed his feet. This, of course, only made him focus on the smells of the city. The day was humid, causing mud and wet stone to fill the air. Cooking oil was growing stronger, gusting easily through the tunnels of the streets thanks to the steady breeze of the day. Flowers and laundry were everywhere, adding high notes to the otherwise earthy fragrance of the world around them.

It was all so foreign. Just as Keith had said, Lance was a stranger here. He shouldn’t have been, but he still wasn’t sure how to fix that. Even if he did make it back to the palace, it wasn’t as if he could request a trip to the lower city, not after he’d been kidnapped. His _abuela_ would lock him in a tower before she allowed something like that.

A puddle appeared on the road, and Lance attempted to step over it, but he didn’t completely succeed. The thin grass sandals he’d been given provided little protection, and dirty water splashed around his heel. It felt silly to be surprised that the streets were so dirty, but he was. He was used to clean, sparkling marble beneath his feet. Even in the upper city, the streets always had a freshly brushed appearance. It was clear that scrubbing streets was someone’s job, and that job was not paid for in the lower cities.

Who employed those people? Lance didn’t know.

He hated this feeling that he knew nothing about how his own city was run considering how involved he was in its daily functions. Or at least, he _thought_ he was involved, and nobody chose to tell him otherwise.

They came upon a large intersection, multiple streets opening up into a large courtyard. In the center was a grouping of trees, benches, and cacti. There were squat walls and clusters of steps that led to low bridges which cut through the center and opened to little platforms for seating. Up above, birds chattered in a near-deafening chorus, their bodies completely hidden among the flourishing leaves of the trees.

Lance recognized what it was. This space was supposed to be the communal gardens for the neighborhoods. Except, there was no garden to be had. The trees and cacti may have produced fruit, but not enough to feed everyone that was packed into this area, and all possible fruit had been stripped already from whatever could grow it.

This was something pretty, something nice to look at, but it wasn’t helpful. It was the kind of thing the nobles would pick when constructing a new path through the royal garden. Was this how the city plans had been altered to fit? Did whoever was in charge not understand the necessity for the gardens — that they should be functional, not merely decorative?

As they drew close, Lance heard the sharp clack of hooves accompanied by the rattle of wooden wheels and cheery bells. If there were carriages nearby, then they were making their way out of the lower city. _Only one garden,_ Lance thought. _You saw only one, and it wasn’t even useful._

Shiro and Keith headed in a sure direction, picking one of the many streets available. Lance was completely and utterly lost by this point, the buildings around him too high to even look for the hills to mark his way. The only reason he knew they were headed in the right direction was because of the changes happening around him.

The paint on the buildings were no longer chipped, the gates in more intricate patterns. They now passed established shops instead of stalls or carts, some storefronts displaying meat, hanging from hooks in the ceiling, that would be cut to order. Other shops contained neat rows of knickknacks and sculptures on display. The clothing changed too, woven in more intricate styles with pure whites and deeper colors.

The ornamental clusters of gardens grew more common, smaller and spread out, some of them with blooming flowers that attracted the occasional hummingbird. Tall palm trees swayed in the breeze, their fluttering shadows protecting benches placed beneath them. The roads were more even here, the stones worn smooth but still raised enough that water drained between them. It smelled of smoking meat, fresh cut fruit, and warm palm leaves here.

Florona was to meet them at the edge of the upper city. There was only so far she could press into the lower classes before being noticed. Lance was still somewhat impressed that this Pidge person had been able to deliver messages between them so quickly. The paranoid part of Lance fretted about that, about how convenient it was. But this was the path he’d chosen. If something went wrong, he trusted Shiro and Keith to aid Lance.

Even though doing so would just embitter them to their prince even further. Lance’s chest clenched tight and painful at the thought.

He was surprised to realize that the sun had fully risen and the heat of the day was growing. It hadn’t felt like they had walked for that long. Around them, more and more clusters of alphas were weaving through the streets, heading to their various jobs. Lance perhaps ogled a few of the bulkier laborers but managed to keep his tongue inside his mouth. Only a few glanced his way, but it was clear that none recognized who or what he was.

Keith took them on a winding path that ended in a narrow alley leading to another open intersection. This one was much more decorative than the last, with steps dominating the center that signaled the first incline of the hills. Atop the steps were offshoots of streets lined with unlit lamp posts. A large cactus tree dominated the center of the space, the pointy fronds high above the heads of the gathering mass of people going about their lives.

Halfway down the narrow alley they were in, they stopped, well before entering the large open space. There was a little nook formed in the walls caused by two buildings being uneven due to different construction techniques. Keith pushed Lance into the divot to hide him, though there was no one else around. Shiro leaned against the wall, his bulk shielding Lance from view. Without another word, Keith walked off, and Shiro turned to offer a reassuring smile.

“He’s going to scout the area before meeting up with your butler, just in case.”

“I doubt my assassins will be all that noticeable,” Lance grumbled, sagging against the uneven bricks around him.

“You’d be surprised. He has an eye for details.” _Because he grew up learning to survive on the streets_ was left unsaid.

They were quiet for a time, simply waiting on whatever it was Keith was doing. Lance picked at his nails, needing _something_ to do in order to burn his anxious energy. He tried to keep his eyes away from Shiro, but it was hard. Part of him was desperate to take in all he could prior to never seeing the alpha again. Familiar guilt churned in his gut, and he was grateful that they’d skipped breakfast that morning.

Sucking in a breath, Lance told himself to stop being weak and say what he needed to. “I’m sorry.”

Shiro’s look of surprise felt like a knife. “For what?”

“For—” _For ruining your relationship. For being selfish. For still wanting the both of you even now._ “For being a burden.” _Coward,_ he hissed silently to himself.

Lance expected Shiro to gush about how it was their honor to serve the prince in his time of need, just like the good citizen that he was. It would hurt and feel insincere, but Lance deserved that. Instead, Shiro reached out and wrapped his hand around Lance’s with a reassuring squeeze followed by a gentle smile. “You have never been a burden. I’m genuinely happy to have shared my home with you,” then, deliberately, and with ease and warmth, “Lance.”

Why did that hurt so much worse even as it brought a smile to his lips? He didn’t think he’d be able to speak through how tight his throat was, so he squeezed back on the hand wrapped around his own. He wanted to stay. He wanted to beg them to make room for him, in their home, in their hearts. He wanted to explore what this could grow into, with the three of them. He wanted it as much as he wanted to go home and see his family again.

It felt like something deep inside of him was being pulled apart, ready to split him in two, one half running to the palace while the other escaped to the lower city once more.

Footsteps shuffled into the tight alley. Shiro’s head whipped around, body tensing, but he didn’t move or otherwise look ready for a fight, only carefully neutral. Lance held his breath as the sound grew closer. At last, Keith’s head came into view, one stormy eye making contact with Lance’s over Shiro’s shoulder. Then, he stepped out of the way to reveal another person.

“Florona,” Lance breathed with more relief than he expected to have. She was really here. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how worried he’d been that something was going to go wrong and he’d never see her again.

“My prince.” Florona’s eyes were shining with emotion, though her posture was as elegant as usual. She was always steady and stoic, never letting her inner thoughts slip past her control. To see her show even as much as she was now brought a smile to Lance’s face.

“I hope you haven’t been bored without me,” Lance joked, though his voice was a tad too thick to pull it off. Florona pursed her lips and said nothing, which was her way of scolding Lance. It was, conversely, a nice feeling. It grounded him, as if the world hadn’t been completely turned on its head recently.

Shiro stepped out of the way, and Florona moved forward, holding out a cloak similar to the one she was wearing. It was of much nicer quality, embroidered on the edges, and large enough to cover his attire completely. It was only then that Lance realized it would be needed to disguise him as he traveled through the upper city. Otherwise, he’d stand out like a sore thumb.

But that meant leaving Keith’s cloak behind.

It should have been obvious. He couldn’t keep it, and Keith couldn’t afford to replace such a garment. It was a stained, ratty thing that the palace staff would never have allowed him to keep. Even if it smelled of Keith. Even if it would remind Lance of the one person who’d shown him compassion and care not because Lance was a prince, but simply because it was Lance who’d needed help.

With heavy, numb fingers, Lance slid the cloak from his shoulders and held it out to Keith. Their eyes locked, but Lance couldn’t read what the alpha was thinking. Their fingers brushed, and it burned. Lance swallowed hard. Keith took the cloak.

Florona moved forward and draped the replacement around Lance’s shoulders, latching it in place under his chin. Just like that, there was a protective barrier around Lance, as if he stood in the eye of a hurricane. He was separate once more, from the alphas, from Florona, from the alleyway, from the city itself. He was an omega prince, and there was an ocean dividing him from everything else.

It took all he had not to rip the cloak off and toss it far away from him.

Instead, he lifted his chin, gaze burning with stalwart resignation. “I will be forever grateful for your help. The royal family owes you a great debt.”

“I will see it taken care of, my price,” Florona dipped her head before stepping back, ready to be done with the whole matter and lead Lance back to his old life.

Keith said nothing, his face shuttered and unreadable. Shiro, however, looked so achingly sad, that Lance had to turn his back to it immediately. Tugging the hood down over his face to hide any emotion that might show or scent that might leak from him, he followed Florona out of the alley and away from the alphas he so desperately wanted to call his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there are these channels on youtube that let you just walk around a place and experience it as a virtual pedestrian. I watched a whole bunch on various parts of Cuba for this, altering them enough to fit my vague time period. I did save a couple of videos just for funsies later of different places. They really give you the feel of a city that cleaned up tourism photos just can't provide. I highly recommend.
> 
> The dog laying in the road heedless of everyone around it was totes in one of those videos. lol
> 
> I hope you enjoyed your walk through fantasy Cuba! ^.^


	8. Chapter 8

Entering the upper city was familiar. He knew these buildings, tall and ornate, set apart from one another, their grand openings decorated with artistic flare. Though he could see no personal homes currently, he knew that they would have sculpted lawns filled with all manner of growing plant life. The sea breeze was easier to feel here, finding more paths through the buildings, cleaning the air so that it was fresh and cool. Here and there were shimmering statues of Allura, her arms held up to greet the sun, stone hair caught in a frozen gust of wind.

They took the side streets, cutting between buildings when they must to avoid the worst of the traffic. It was louder here, with horseshoes and bells from carriages and rickshaws alike echoing around the area. Servants hustled down the edges of the streets, and the last trickling of alpha workers could be seen hurrying to their destinations before more upstanding betas could frown upon their presence.

“My disappearance wasn’t announced?” Lance asked, keeping his voice low.

“There was a ransom note but no proof you were alive,” Florona replied in her no-nonsense manner, her soft tone barely tempering it, which was comforting in its familiarity. “The note was delivered to the king’s chambers anonymously. Whoever slipped it beneath the door has not been found.”

Lance frowned. That meant it was someone already in the palace, though he could have guessed as much. It could be any number of diplomats, and though they were regularly guarded, any servant could be paid off or threatened into delivering such a message. There were only so many who could reach the king’s personal chambers, but if there had been a significant enough distraction…

He didn’t have enough details on the matter to come up with a good conclusion, though now was likely not the time to go into detail. He would wait until he was enclosed in a chamber with his family and guards posted to prevent eavesdropping. He could only hope that it was not Joaquín who was helping to interrogate the servants. He especially hoped Joaquín was not the one to dole out punishments to whatever poor soul had been threatened into compliance.

“We’ll have to be careful even in the palace, then,” Lance murmured, “until we discover who it is helping them.”

“Yes, my prince.”

They turned again, diving deeper into the alleyways between the back of buildings. More and more people were filling the streets. It was harder to avoid them. They passed under the shade of close-set buildings that created a tunnel effect. Lance was grateful for it, as the sun was beginning to heat up the heavy material of his cloak. It wasn’t as light as Keith’s, so he was beginning to sweat.

_No, don’t think about Keith._

“Was there any indication of who sent the note? What did they want? What was the ransom they requested?”

“I do not know, my prince.”

“Well what did the note say?” Lance tried to keep the frustration from his voice. It wasn’t Florona’s fault, he was simply on edge.

“I do not know, my prince.”

Lance gritted his teeth. Shiro’s face popped into his mind, that soothing smile and gentle words telling Lance and Keith to stop arguing. It was Shiro’s gentle way of saying, “Calm down and listen to one another instead of talking over each other.”

_No, don’t think of Shiro._

They turned again. The alley was smaller this time, rough bits of jutting stone reaching out and tugging at his cloak. He pulled it tighter around him. In the distance, he heard voices, people calling out to one another, loud whistles, a dog barking. He sidestepped a puddle as he forced his thoughts back to the problem at hand. Since Lance’s attackers truly were pretending that they still had him, then that meant they were still looking for him.

“Has anyone unexpected approached your family?” Lance asked. They had to be careful.

“No, my prince.”

Something pricked at the back of Lance’s mind. He furrowed his brow, trying to chase the thought. He tripped over a jutting stone and stumbled a bit. He blinked, staring down at the dirty cobblestone beneath his feet. He looked up and saw the intersection of the narrow alleys ahead of them, dark streaks of water stains standing out on the even line of walls surrounding them. The thought he had clicked.

“How did you know it was a ransom note if you weren’t told anything about it?”

“I am your butler, my prince. I had to be informed.”

That sounded as if it made sense, but it didn’t. If the cover was that Lance was sick, perhaps even suffering through a sudden heat, then Florona would have been given that information and granted vacation to stay with her family until Lance was better. Hunk would have been informed, as the entire royal family knew how devoted he was to Lance, but Florona wouldn’t have been because she would have had access to the royal family’s suite.

Lance stopped walking. “You didn’t answer my question earlier. What is being said about me if I’ve been missing for a week?”

“I do not know, my prince. I was given leave to spend time with my family.”

Slowly, Lance pulled his hood back and took a deep breath. He could smell them, faintly. They were hidden just around the corner, only a few steps away. He turned to Florona, conflicted feelings of betrayal, anger, and fear must have been evident on his face for she backed away from him.

“I’m sorry, my prince,” she whispered. For the first time in Lance’s life, he heard tears in her voice, and the calm mask she always wore cracked. “They have my family.”

A familiar figure stepped around the corner to face Lance, still wrapped in dark clothing, a mask covering his nose and mouth. He carried a length of rope in one hand, a knife in the other. His eyes were turned up the slightest bit on the edges, like he was pleased with himself for cornering the slippery omega prince at last.

“Come quietly, and you won’t get hurt,” the man said. He jerked his head in Florona’s direction. “And we don’t kill her baby sister.”

Florona muffled a sob. Another man, similarly dressed, stepped up behind her and gave her a curt order to leave, which she did at a sprint. His accent was heavier, but Lance had already recognized it from the first man’s speech patterns. They were Phoenician.

Lance lifted his chin, presenting himself as braver than he felt. “Ransom me all you like, Ontillia will not bend to threats.”

“Know your place, omega,” the second man spat.

“I do,” Lance said, pulling on every last ounce of his royal training to look down on them.

The Phoenician diplomats had been worse than normal since they arrived at the beginning of the season, always arguing for every possible trading deal to be heavily weighted in their favor. Their recent alpha king had been making more and more oppressive laws in regards to omegas, and many sought refuge in Ontillia because of it. The dignitaries were clearly influenced by the turning tide in their country’s culture, assuming that the omega rulers of Ontillia should bow to their will simply because they were alphas.

The two men before Lance now were the beta attendants, he was sure of it, tasked to capture Lance at all costs. He was positive that it was more than just favorable trade the Phoenicians wanted. Likely, they would demand the return of the omega refugees, something the royal family had made known to other countries in the past that they would not agree to. Lance would never, ever bend to that request, no matter what they did, and he wouldn’t let his family be forced to make that choice for his safety either.

“Be a good little omega and follow orders,” the first man said, stepping forward. “You just need to come with us and pen a letter. Act up, and we’ll put you in your place.”

“And carve off pieces of you to send to your king,” the second man snarled.

“No, you won’t.” Lance unlatched the cloak around his neck and let it fall, the baggy clothes he wore sagged at the neck leaving the glands there as open as the ones at his wrist.

A gust of wind shot down the narrow alley, hitting Lance’s back and sending his hair fluttering around his face. The two betas laughed, and the first spoke up again. “It’s a windy day, you see? You won’t build up enough to affect us, so there’s no use trying.” He tapped his mask for emphasis.

“I don’t have to affect you,” Lance said. “Your mistake was bringing me back to the lower city.”

The lower city, where all the untrained alphas were.

Steeling himself for what he knew was coming, Lance released his control, set his jaw, and _pushed._ His glands went into overdrive, bits of oil beading on his skin as they swelled. Sweat collected and dripped down the back of his neck. His temperature spiked. The forced heat was going to hurt, more so for how quickly he was bringing it on, but that would soon be the least of his worries.

He couldn’t outrun his assailants this time, nor could he fight them. They had no issue with harming him, but it wasn’t himself that he was afraid for. It was his people. This was his country, his city, his home. He had seen the proof with his own eyes how many times he’d failed them. He wasn’t going to again. These men would not use him to undermine his country’s stability and leave Ontillia open to invasion. He would not allow them to hurt the omegas he had welcomed into his home and promised safety to.

He’d rather sacrifice himself than do that. His only regret was that by the end of this, there would be alphas who got hurt, and those who would be punished for whatever was left of him. It wouldn’t be their fault. He prayed his father would have mercy.

Wind whistled through the alley, splitting and swirling through the cross-section. The two men sneered at Lance as he lifted his arms, palms up, to expose his wrists. They were waiting on him to act, braced to chase him when he ran, but he didn’t. This was the best place he could be. Only so many bodies would be able to reach him at a time in such a narrow space.

“Enough of this,” the first man said. He stalked up to Lance and took a fist full of shirt, slamming Lance back against the unforgiving wall. A second later, a knife pressed against Lance’s throat. “Scream and I’ll make sure you never make a noise again.”

Lance responded with a grim smile. He could feel his cheeks flushing, and his breath was picking up.

“Scared?” the man asked. When Lance said nothing, he turned to his partner. “Get over here and help me tie his hands!”

“Someone’s coming,” the other said.

“Then move faster!”

The two of them crowded Lance, and his wrist was grabbed in a meaty fist. He hissed, the pressure on his gland sending a jolt through his body. Slick trickled down his thighs, and he bit back a whimper, not wanting to show any weakness before the men in front of him. The first man, the talkative one, narrowed his eyes at Lance.

“You think you can seduce your way out of this?”

“What a slut,” his partner scoffed. “I bet he—look out!”

The man holding Lance to the wall turned as his partner was slammed to the ground. He struck out with the knife as the newcomer was joined by two others. They fell into a grappling pile, bits of blood splattering the ground. Lance had known this would happen, but seeing it in person was a completely different thing. The sound of flesh hitting flesh, of bones cracking, of shouts followed by the sharp scent of blood, those weren’t things he’d ever experienced in person.

He felt sick. His instincts screamed at him to run, though he knew it would do him no good. Still, with the heat building and the violence before him causing his fear to bubble to the surface, he couldn’t stop his feet from taking off in a blind direction.

 _Away, away, away,_ his nerves screamed.

He tugged at the rope around his wrist. The knot hadn't been finished. He managed to toss it to the side, but that tiny feeling of freedom didn’t last. From around the corner came a wall of a woman. She slammed into Lance, flipping him around and shoving his face into scratchy stone. She growled, burying her face into his neck before inhaling deep. Her hands trembled.

“What are you?” she rasped.

“I’m sorry,” Lance whispered as his heat spiked and more slick gushed from him.

The weight on him abruptly left with a sickening thump. He turned to see another alpha fighting with the woman, the both of them snarling and baring their fangs as they grappled. Lance didn’t get a chance to try and run again. There were more already. More and more and more, coming from every direction, fighting each other in the alleys, swarming the entrance that led to the street.

Lance was yanked one way and the other by too many hands. The smell of alpha surrounded him, making his mind fuzzy, causing his insides to cramp. He was panting, sweat pouring from him and sending his scent further swirling into the air. There was a ripping noise, and it only belatedly occurred to him that it was his shirt, ripped into shreds, fluttering to the ground.

_Shiro’s shirt. It’s broken again—_

Someone sank teeth into his shoulder, missing the gland, but still making Lance howl and sob a moan. He ached. He ached for it, to be taken, but he knew there were too many, his scent too strong. By the time an alpha won the right to claim him, they’d be fucking in a puddle of blood. With that thought, the tears started.

“I’m sorry,” Lance moaned.

_Crack!_

Someone behind Lance crumpled to the ground with a heavy thunk. A chorus of snarls followed but were cut off by quick decisive thunks against flesh. Someone had joined the fray while remaining valiantly less affected by Lance’s heat scent. Whoever it was knew how to fight and fight well. Was it another omega? No, he was too far from the upper city now. A beta, then? Had his assailants recovered? Were they succeeding in battling through the swarm to get to him?

Fear trilled up his spine as he pushed away from the wall. Someone grabbed his arm, and he yanked back with a dizzying lurch.

“Come on! Move!”

Then they were running, Lance dragged along behind, his legs weak and stumbling, but the person who held him kept him standing. Blinking hard, Lance focused on messy black hair and a slim frame. He’d know that terrible haircut anywhere now.

“Keith?” Lance asked, but he was too out of breath for it to make much noise. It was lost amid the shouting, clambering chaos of the world around them.

Why was Keith here? How did he know to come? Shouldn’t he have been far away by now?

“Out of the way! Everyone get inside!” Another familiar voice. It took a moment, but Lance was able to focus on the broad shoulders a few paces ahead, clearing the way with his bulk. Shiro… They were both here. They’d both come for Lance, but they weren’t in a blind rage fighting the other alphas.

 _They’re used to my smell._ It shouldn’t have taken that long to realize the answer, but Lance’s thoughts were dripping through him slow as molasses. He’d been through just about every emotion in the alphas’ home, and they’d been locked up inside with the windows drawn, stewing in it. Of course they’d built up a tolerance, enough so that they could keep a level head out here in the open.

Lance wasn’t sure how long he was dragged along in a daze before his legs gave out. He fell and barely missed smashing his face into the cobblestones as Keith caught him. He trembled violently in the alpha’s arms. An omega was supposed to run during pre-heat, but Lance had forced his body to skip that step. Now, he was supposed to be wrapped up in the embrace of an alpha to be brought to the heights of pleasure.

But he was out in the open, weak and without a partner, his life in danger. Normally, these circumstances would have shut his heat down, but he’d done this to himself. What should have been a heavy rain was now a monsoon inside him. He could barely breathe through it. _It feels like I’m drowning._

The world spun when he was lifted into the air and dropped over someone’s shoulder. He squinted at the tight ass below his face. _Oh, it’s Shiro._ He almost loosed a delirious laugh, but they were running again, and Lance’s abdomen was jostled with every step. It made it that much harder to breathe.

As they continued on, Lance’s hard cock smacked against Shiro’s chest over and over. Slick was still darkening his pants. His hole was so close to Shiro’s face now. Did the alpha smell it? Was he tempted? Did he want Lance? Not just for a rut, not a single moment in time, but for much longer. Would Shiro bite Lance’s gland, claim it, pull Keith in and explain in that calm voice of his how they needed to take care of Lance? Would Keith agree and bite Lance, too?

“Mark me,” Lance murmured. Or at least, his lips moved, though he was unsure if he made any noise. “Please, mark me.”

꧁___꧂

Keith wasn’t exactly sure when he’d found a broken broom handle, most of the run through the city was a blur, but it was useful. He swung without care of those around them, cracking the nose of more than one alpha, and sending multiple betas stumbling with a hit to the knee. They had reached the edge of the upper city once more, but it had already taken a lot out of them. Lance was unable to run and now trembling violently, and Shiro was not unaffected by breathing that in like smoke from a fire.

Up ahead was a carriage, it was stopped, though the horse was restless. The beta driver was doubled over, breathing hard into a handkerchief. Keith glanced over his shoulder. Shiro was sweating, his eyes dilating and struggling to stay focused. With grim determination, Keith aimed for the carriage, swatting people out of his way with hard swings of his makeshift staff.

“You don’t know how to drive,” Shiro said, words slurring at the edges. At least he was still able to focus enough to read Keith’s intentions.

Still, Shiro was right. He didn’t know how to force a horse to listen to him in the middle of all this pandemonium. They didn’t have much of a choice, however. They weren’t going to be able to outrun the entire city in order to reach the palace, and the palace was their only option. There wasn’t anyplace else that Lance could go in the state he was in.

Even if they managed to lock themselves inside somewhere, it wouldn’t be long before the guards were informed. They’d kick down the door, drag Lance away, and jail Keith and Shiro. After all, someone unknown had attempted to kidnap a prince, and the whole scenario would make it look like the two alphas with him were responsible.

Keith jumped to land on the driver’s seat of the carriage, causing the horse to whinny and kick, its eyes rolling. The beta gaped up at Keith in shock and fear, not that Keith could blame the guy, given everything. Keith shoved the reins into the beta’s hands before turning to beat back the advancing crowd. Shiro clambered up into the carriage seat, immediately cradling Lance to his chest.

“Drive!” Keith snapped. “Or they’ll rip you apart.”

Considering the scene around them, the beta didn’t need much more convincing. He snapped the reins and whistled a piercing command. The horse took over with a lurch, more than happy to leave the crowded intersection. Keith shot one hand out to grab the top of the carriage and keep his balance. He stayed standing, shoving the end of his broomstick into anyone that got too close. Thankfully, the stomping hooves of the horse, dissuaded even some of the more affected alphas from standing in their way.

“Where are we supposed to go?” the beta shouted over the noise.

“The palace.”

“We’ll be arrested!”

“You’ll be in more trouble than that if we don’t get him there.” Keith jerked his head at Lance. “That’s a noble.”

The beta paled, but he didn’t argue or ask any further questions. When nobles were involved, it was better to know less than more. If Keith had blatantly named who Lance was, there was a good chance the beta would have jumped from his seat and taken his chances in the crowd rather than risk being blamed for the prince’s state.

It was what any smart person would have done, and maybe Keith would have as well, once upon a time, but not now. It wasn’t the _prince_ they were trying to save. It was Lance.

Keith had dragged his feet on the way back after leaving Lance with his butler. The look Keith had been given…it hurt. Shiro saw it, and he saw how Keith reacted to it but, like the good mate he was, hadn’t said anything. This only left Keith trapped in his own head, conflicted and worried. He knew that he couldn’t stalk Lance all the way to the palace just to ease his sudden protective urges, but he hadn’t been willing to stray too far.

Shiro had allowed it, letting Keith pause or wander or pretend to browse items they didn’t need or want. They had traded their off day to today in order to get Lance to his butler, so they had the time. As always, Shiro would wait until Keith was ready to talk or push for a few words when they were safe and comfortable at home. It only made Keith want to stay longer, desperate to avoid the inevitable talk he knew was coming. Lance was gone now, never to be seen again. What was the point in discussing it further?

Then, people started screaming. The smell of multiple alphas falling into rut drifted in the air in a cluster of confusion and anxiety that raised every hair on Keith’s body. He’d taken off running before he’d even thought it through. That turned out to be a benefit because the next thing to hit him was the smell of Lance.

Though the initial heat scent was strong enough to nearly bring Keith to his knees, it was the underlying smell of fear, sadness, and desperation that had kept Keith moving. If he’d thought that his protective instincts had been grating that first night he’d found Lance, it was nothing compared to now. The blood in his very veins screamed at him to find Lance and help him. Despite the amount of people he’d encountered on the way, it turned out to be rather easy. They were out of their minds, but Keith was hyper-focused and had learned from a young age how to fight dirty.

Now, the carriage was blowing Lance’s scent backward like breadcrumbs to those who had succumbed to the instinct to chase. They were creating a trailing ribbon of rut drunk alphas. Thankfully, Keith and the driver were now ahead of it and the clean air made it easier to think. Shiro, however, was still wrapped tight around Lance.

They were well into the upper city now, and most people here were smart enough to get out of the carriage’s way, the constant chime of the bells giving plenty of warning. Keith glanced back at his mate. Shiro was breathing hard, beads of sweat running down his face. Lance was sitting in Shiro’s lap, face buried in Shiro’s scent gland. His shaking had lessened. Shiro, however, was trembling slightly, his arms wrapped so tight around Lance that the muscles bulged.

It would have been easier on the both of them if Lance could simply sit on Shiro’s cock, the jumping of the carriage wheels would do the thrusting for them. However, with the both of them so far gone, it was likely that Shiro would knot in a matter of seconds. If something were to happen, they’d be unable to move. Keith just wanted so desperately to help them, to fix it, but there was nothing more he could do.

Gritting his teeth, he focused back on the road, prepared for anything. He had to keep them safe, no matter what.

On the upside, they were outpacing the trail of alphas behind them. On the downside, the farther they galloped into the upper city, the more guards there were. At first, they came running to stop the speeding carriage but were distracted by the near-riot caused in Lance’s wake. Now, with the people on the streets thinning as they gained on the higher class homes, the attention was all on them.

“Stop! Stop at once!” guards shouted as they ran into the streets. The tunics of their uniforms fluttered in the strong breezes that reached this part of the city. It was going to be harder for them to notice Lance’s state from a distance.

The driver was growing more nervous, eyes flicking from Keith to the guards. “It’s better to stop and tell them what’s happening rather than waiting for them to block the road.”

“If you stop, that mob will catch up to us.”

“We’re well ahead of them now! They could be recovering—”

“You think the guards won’t be affected? Or you?”

The man’s lips paled as he pursed them together, eyebrows drawn low. It was clear he was conflicted. Keith should have been considering the man’s words as well. Perhaps the guards could have taken over or provided an escort. There probably was time. But Lance’s haunted eyes and the whispered confession of not knowing who the attempted murderer was kept playing in Keith’s head. It was likely irrational, caused by Lance’s heat and instincts and—

 _And you’ve fallen for him, you idiot!_ Keith shouted at himself. _What dumbass falls for a prince while already having the best mate in the world?_

Keith turned and found Shiro’s eyes meeting his because his mate always knew when to look. They were synced with each other that much. Keith let his emotional turmoil show on his face, and Shiro understood. He pressed his cheek against Lance’s damp hair and mouthed, “I know. Me, too.”

It almost made Keith laugh to know that they were both idiots.

The carriage pitched to the side, and Keith barely managed not to get thrown. He turned to see they had entered a decorative courtyard, filled with platforms for entertainers and elaborate sculptures. The problem was that half the courtyard was filled with steps leading up to a large building spewing guards. There were ramps to either side that circled around the homes and led to the haciendas beyond, but they’d been blocked off by carts to form a makeshift barricade.

“Find another way around!” Keith shouted.

“But then we won’t be heading towards the palace,” the driver shot back, circling around to avoid the advancing guards. The horse tossed its head, hooves stomping in agitation. “It’s better if we just—”

Keith pointed to a space between houses where the personal garden had been uprooted in preparation for new shrubbery being planted. “Go through there!”

“The wheels won’t make it!”

They were running out of time, and Keith couldn’t wait for them to argue this out. He sat down on the bench and yanked on the reins. The horse reared up as it turned. When Keith slapped his broom handle on the horse’s rear, it darted forward without delay. The driver was screaming, doing his best to control their direction. Keith braced himself for when they jumped the road and landed in the soft dirt.

“Hold on!” he shouted over his shoulder.

All of them went airborne as they bounced into and up out of a rut. Thankfully, they had enough momentum to keep them from getting stuck, and their weight as they slammed back into their seats kept the wheels from spinning, though they managed to kick up quite a bit of soil as they made their way through. Moving up onto the grass at the back of the home was both better and worse.

The carriage rocked and bounced erratically, slamming off the sides of buildings that the horse barely managed to dodge in its blind panic of the situation. It was heaving great gusts of air and foaming around its bit. The muscles on the driver’s arms were bulging as he tried to control the beast and make their way back to the road.

“He says there’s a side gate closer to the sea. Aim for the coast and stay off the main road.” Shiro almost sounded composed as he called the directions, but Keith could hear the strain and tinge of pain underneath it.

Grimly, the driver headed in that direction, all of them ignoring the _clack clack clack_ of the right wheel swaying wildly on its axle.

There were dirt roads that wound their way through farms surrounding the big haciendas. They made it to one of them, but it did little to stabilize the wheel. To their left, in the distance, the sun glittered off the waves of the ocean. Keith wasn’t sure how close to the coast they should get, but he was satisfied that they were gaining on the palace. Up ahead, they could see the cliffs peeking over the hills. Behind them, riders were taking off after them.

“We’ll be lucky if we make it much farther,” the driver said.

“Just keep going,” Keith demanded.

The beta was right, however. They made it over the crest of two hills before the wheel was fighting more than it was rolling. The horse was slowing, having burned through its energy. They weren’t going to make it. When they hit a sizable rock in the road, it was all over.

WIth a curse, the driver dove for the horse, managing to free it from the cart so it wouldn’t be injured. He was dragged along as the horse spun and screamed, but he managed to roll away without injury. Keith was only mildly aware of this, as the carriage had pitched sideways and come to an abrupt, sliding halt, spilling the passengers onto the grass along the side of the road.

He rolled to a stop, scraped up but mostly fine. He barely took a moment to assess himself before pushing to his hands and knees, calling Shiro’s name. He spotted his mate a moment later, still curled up in the grass, body tucked around Lance. Keith scrambled over to them.

“Shiro! Shiro, are you hurt? Lance!”

Lance moaned in response. Shiro lifted his head to look at Keith with a wince. “I’m sore, but I don’t think anything is broken.”

Keith ran his hands all along Shiro’s body, having to confirm it for himself. “I don’t see any blood. Lance, talk to me!”

“You’re bleeding.” Shiro reached up, but Keith pushed the hand away.

“I’m fine. I can’t even feel it.”

Shiro frowned, but he allowed the focus to turn to Lance, uncurling himself with a grimace. The smell hit Keith like a punch, and he very nearly reeled back from it. A growl ripped out of him, the world blurring on the edges of his vision at the smell of distress, fear, and heat in nearly equal amounts. Shiro’s face was drawn, his eyes unfocused. Keith was surprised that Shiro even felt pain considering how far gone he was.

 _You have to keep it together. For the both of them,_ Keith scolded himself. He forced his attention back to Lance, running his hands along skin, looking for any injuries, growling every time Lance whimpered, moaned and writhed.

“We need to keep moving,” Keith said, voice deep and gravely. Lance shivered, and Keith forced himself to look away even as his mouth watered. He turned back to check on the driver, only to find the man gone, apparently having taken the distraction as a chance to run, horse in tow. Keith cursed with feeling.

“Keith?” Shiro whispered. He was breathing so hard. Keith’s chest clenched.

Looking back to them, Keith cupped Shiro’s face in his hands. “Stand up. You have to stand up. We can’t stop here.” He dropped dominance in his voice, the kind that always affected Shiro, even in the midst of rut.

“Stay… don’t… don’t leave… please… please stay… don’t wanna be alone…” Lance’s eyes rolled as he babbled, and his words felt like blades through Keith’s heart.

“We’re not leaving,” Keith growled. Clenching his fists hard enough for his nails to bite into skin, he put all the power he could into his voice, “Stand up!”

Lance’s back arched, and he released a strangled, desperate noise, but Shiro moved, stumbling to his feet with Keith’s help. He lifted Lance from the ground and pressed the too hot, limp body into Shiro’s arms. A gust of sea wind cut through the air. Keith turned into it, taking deep breaths to help clear his head.

“We keep going,” Keith said, placing a hand on Shiro’s shoulder to guide his rut drunk mate.

Time blurred. The world around them blurred. Sounds blurred. Keith was dripping sweat, his skin feeling far too tight, his cock painful where it bounced hard and untouched against his leg. He kept his eyes on the cliffs ahead and pressed forward, refusing to let them fall, stumbling and jogging in turns, urgency thrumming in his veins.

They didn’t stop until horses blocked their path, the riders dismounting and reaching for them. Keith fought them off, only belatedly realizing that they were guards. He stole their batons, one for each hand, as they were too out of their minds to think to use them. Sweat and blood was dripping down Keith’s face, but he shook his head and kept going, Shiro ahead and Keith behind to fight off the dazed guards trying to get to Lance.

“Don’t leave,” Lance whispered.

He should have been begging for a knot, an alpha, anyone that would temper the heat. Instead, he was begging not to be alone. If Keith had thought Lance seemed lonely before, this was a slap in the face. It was so obvious now how wrong Keith had been when determining who Lance really was.

 _Then tell me to stay,_ Keith wanted to beg, and he very nearly did before — 

“Lance!” It was a woman’s voice. Keith turned to see someone he didn’t know who still managed to look familiar. She was surrounded by a group of guards with actual leather armor and spears, all of them with thick cloth tied securely over their face.

A city guard slammed into Keith, but he fought the person off with a snarl. When he turned back, the palace guards were holding Shiro captive. He was growling and fighting them, trying to get back to Lance. Someone hit him in the gut with the butt of a spear, doubling him over. Keith ran to his mate but was thrown to the dirt by someone he hadn’t seen coming. It was only one man, struggling to hold him down as the other palace guards focused on the city guards still trying to get to Lance.

Lance.

He was in the arms of some stranger, the familiar but not woman hurrying alongside them both. She was barking orders with an air of great authority. “Bring him to the alpha consort Hunk immediately. Bar the doors. Let no one but the royal family know where he is.”

Keith shouted, wordless and in agony. He didn’t know who these people were, didn’t know where they were taking Lance. He was supposed to protect his mates. He was supposed to keep them safe. They were trapped. _Trapped, trapped, trapped,_ and Lance’s smell was calling to him for help, and Shiro was growling and held to the ground by strangers and—

“Veronica, please,” Lance’s small, breathless voice carried over the fray. “Please, keep them safe. Please.”

The woman whispered platitudes, running a loving hand down Lance’s sweat-drenched cheek before turning back to the chaos behind her. Keith met her eyes just before his face was pressed into the dirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh! These scenes were so hard to write. As a perfectionist, I still dunno if I'm 100% happy with this chapter, but I hope you, dear readers, liked it. Lance dropping his scent bomb was a scene stuck in my head for literal years and what ultimately spurred me to push through and finish this fic. lol
> 
> Once again, I'm extremely grateful for Cuban urban walks videos as well as aerial shots of various haciendas in Cuba. Also, fun side note, I was aware that sugar plantations would help support a country like this in a global market in the vague era I set this story in. However, as I am currently teaching The Americas colonization history, it's really hit home that sugar alone could have damn well supported the entire nation I built for this story. Sugar's got a dark history, man, and this fic is a happy and sanitized version of it. XD


	9. Chapter 9

Lance suffered through three days of hell and two days of somewhat better than that, which was the longest heat of his life. He didn’t think he would have survived it had it not been for Hunk. After years of being together, they knew one another like nobody else. Hunk was able to read what Lance needed even when he couldn’t vocalize it himself.

Hunk was also able to hold and comfort Lance when the fear of what he’d almost done to himself came crashing in, leaving him a sobbing, heaving mess.

Between the delirious waves, he was able to name the culprits who had started all of this. It wasn’t coherent by any means, but it was enough to lock up the Phoenician dignitaries and the Diaz family. Florona was also taken into custody of the palace, her family put on house arrest. As for Keith and Shiro, they were kept in a suite of rooms, barred from interacting with anyone but Veronica herself.

All of this information came in blips of consciousness during the times Hunk was doing his best to make sure Lance ate and stayed hydrated. When the heat finally faded, Lance slept for an entire day. He was bone-weary, stretched thin, and battered. There was nothing left in him, no royal strength he could call upon to face what he’d done to his city. So, he sank into the dreamless dark and avoided the world for as long as he could.

He woke in Hunk’s warm and gentle embrace, and he stayed there in silence for a long time as Hunk rumbled reassuringly, running his big fingers in a soothing caress over Lance’s hair and back. Lance wasn’t ready to leave just yet, and Hunk didn’t push.

This room was familiar, filled with happy, pleasant memories. It contained a large bed and cushioned seating the same as Lance’s personal pleasure room, but it was brighter here. This was Hunk’s personal workroom, but ever since gaining Lance’s favor, nobody came here except Lance. There were windows high along the walls, covering half the room — the domed side facing the sprawling forest beyond the cliffs. Sometimes hummingbirds would land on the ornate grates, drawn by the smell of fruit and flowers. Produce was strewn about in the same way others decorated with trinkets, meaning there was always something new and fresh whenever Lance visited.

 _I’m sorry for making everything in here smell like my bad heat,_ Lance wanted to say. _I’m sorry for tainting this room with horrible memories._

He knew better than to speak that aloud. Hunk would argue to his dying breath that Lance had done nothing wrong, and this would still be a safe haven for him. Hunk would be right, of course. But Lance didn’t know if he could handle hearing all of that just yet.

“You’re my best friend,” Lance admitted.

Hunk’s arms wrapped around Lance and squeezed tight. “Mine, too,” he whispered conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anyone I said that, though. Imagine the scandal! All of your courtiers would be jealous that I beat them for the top stop.”

A smile tugged on Lance’s lips, though he hadn’t believed it was possible to form one yet. Leave it to Hunk. “I missed you.”

Hunk hummed before reaching down to lift one of Lance’s legs and raise an eyebrow at the fading bruises and bite marks there which were clearly done with time and precision in all the places Hunk knew Lance liked. “Not too much, I’ve noticed.”

Lance smacked Hunk’s hand away, warmth suffusing his cheeks as he snapped his legs back together to hide the evidence. He’d never been embarrassed about his conquests before, and usually, Hunk scolded Lance on allowing himself to be marked. It was rare for Hunk to tease and rarer still for Lance to act bashful.

Which, of course, meant that Lance had given himself away. Hunk offered Lance a soft, accepting smile. “You kept calling for them. I think someone might be infatuated.”

“Yeah, well…” Lance pressed his face into Hunk’s chest, one finger raising to trace the lines of the tattoos there to give his restless hands something to do. “They saved my life.”

“It’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“It’s more than that,” he muttered in admission. “They don’t… They don’t treat me like… I mean, well, they’re not rude, it’s just that they…”

“They see just you before anything else?” Hunk guessed with all the wisdom afforded to the title of best friend. Lance nodded, lips pressed tight, and it earned him a soft kiss atop his head. “Then I’m glad it was them that found and protected you. I owe them more than I could ever repay.”

Lance felt his eyes well with tears. “Yeah…me, too.”

Hunk was silent for a time as Lance brought his emotions back under control. He was still off-kilter, still suffering from the effects of the hell he’d put his body through. Soon, he’d feel like himself again and this feeling of otherness in his own skin would pass. Soon, but not now.

“You deal with a lot in the palace,” Hunk said as if they were talking casually about what outfit to wear at the next fiesta. “I think it’d be nice if you had more friends here that you can trust, those that don’t have any political stakes or family expectations.” When Lance stayed silent, Hunk pushed. “Maybe even friends who aren’t so ingrained with service that it’s hard to leave the training behind sometimes, even when it’s important.”

“I’ve never thought—” Lance tried to protest, but when he looked up, Hunk placed a finger over Lance’s lips with a smile that said he’d come to terms with that side of himself long ago.

“You know I’d be willing to help, with all my years of education and experience, any friend willing to stay by your side.”

Lance sucked in a deep breath and firmly told himself not to cry. So, instead, he smiled, eyelashes glimmering in the light of the sun shining from the windows above. “Yeah,” he choked out. “If I had more friends like that…it’d be great.”

꧁___꧂

Lance couldn’t explain why he was so nervous when he walked into Veronica’s guest suite at long last. It was fully furnished, and the two alphas within were dressed in fine robes, scrubbed well clean of any lingering dirt. They didn’t look exhausted or wounded from interrogation. Veronica had promised Lance multiple times that they were well under her protection, their family waiting until he was able to speak on the alphas’ behalf. He trusted his sister, but sometimes paranoia didn’t ease until seeing something with one's own eyes.

Keith whirled around first when the doors opened. He pushed from his chair, hurrying halfway across the room. “Lance! Are you hurt? They wouldn’t tell us anything!”

It was nearly unbearable the way Lance’s chest clenched at the sight of Keith’s open, honest face. It was much worse when Keith was stopped in his tracks when Shiro calmly stood and bowed, greeting Lance with a soft, “My prince.”

Lance sucked in a painful breath of air. “Please, don’t…” He swallowed hard. “Please, not when we’re alone.”

Shiro stood, but it was clear he was still cautious. They were back at the palace, but it was only the three of them in these rooms, the guards left outside the door. The collection of rooms was bigger than Shiro and Keith’s home. Lance clenched and unclenched his hands.

“Sorry it took so long,” Lance said, trying to force a smile. “What I did—” Why couldn’t he make it through a whole sentence without seizing up? _Damn it!_ “It took a while to recover.”

“Lance,” Keith said. He stepped forward, only once, his face serious, eyebrows pinched in concern. Lance looked away.

“I’ve already let everyone know your role in the whole affair. You’re to be rewarded for your service. I want to thank you personally for disrupting your lives so much and saving mine. If there’s anything you would like to request of me, please do so. I will give you what I can to the best of my ability.” Great, now he was rambling. But they weren’t saying anything, and he was afraid to look up, so he kept going. He may not get another chance to say all he needed to say.

“I apologize for interrupting your lives and causing you so much trouble, months ago and now. It was never my intention to come between the two of you. I respect your relationship, I want you to know that. I understand that I was selfish and—”

“Fuck this,” Keith spat. He ignored Shiro saying his name in warning and advanced on Lance who tensed in anticipation.

Whatever Lance thought was going to happen, whatever he thought he deserved, didn’t come. Instead, Keith wrapped Lance tight in a hug, fingers gently massaging at the back of Lance’s neck, calming the upset omega that Lance was so carefully keeping under control. Well, that control was shattered now. His eyes filled with tears as he clung to the silks Keith was draped in.

A moment later, Shiro pressed against Lance’s back so that both alphas fully encompassed Lance’s lithe frame. Their scent was everywhere now, familiar and comforting. Hunk’s words came back to Lance, but he was too afraid to hope for that. He pressed his face into Keith’s neck and breathed in deep, trying to take in all he could so that he’d always remember what this smelled like, down to the tiniest detail.

Shiro’s earthy citrus and Keith’s electric heat were so entwined that Lance couldn’t smell one without the other. The way his own scent wove between them turned the room a lush, untouched island baking away in the heat of the sun. It smelled like happiness and freedom. It smelled like home.

“I’m sorry.”

Except it wasn’t Lance that said it this time, it was Keith. Lance stiffened, eyes wide as he waited in silence. Shiro said nothing as well, giving Keith the time he needed to continue.

“I panicked,” Keith said, his voice hard but barely above a whisper, as if he was forcing himself not to shy away from the confession. “I’m not—I’m not good with people. I didn’t know how to handle, well, whatever was going on.”

“What was going on?” Lance asked, breathless. He knew better than to ask, but the words burst from him without his control. He felt the tension from Keith’s jaw where it sat against his temple.

“I was—I—” Keith growled. Had Lance ever seen Keith act so nervous before, so unable to find the exacting and callous words he wanted?

“We’re falling for you, Lance,” Shiro said, his voice like a balm to them both. “We weren’t expecting it, especially not in that situation, and we aren’t sure where that leaves us.”

Lance could hardly breathe. Was this really happening? His chest hurt. “Really? Do you mean it?” He had to ask — he had to — because he _didn’t_ believe it. They were both so amazing and in love with each other, and Lance was a naive headache that only managed to hurt them and screw up their lives and—

Teeth scraped along the scent gland at the base of Lance’s neck. He sucked in a sharp breath, trembling over how sensitive he still was there. It took him a long few seconds to realize it was Keith’s teeth grazing his skin. His hand slid up Keith’s back, fingers curling as he bit his lip against the sensation.

Then there were teeth on his other gland, he shivered, and deep, slow arousal pooled in his gut. It didn’t feel rushed or scary or filled with terrifying blips of memory. It felt right and safe. It felt like bliss. He whimpered, his other hand reaching back to fist into Shiro’s hair. He wanted this, wanted _them_ , so _so_ bad. Craved it. Needed it.

“Please,” he whispered. “Do it. Please.”

“You want us to mark you?” Shiro asked into Lance’s heated skin.

“Yes!” Lance panted for breath. “Please, claim me. Mark me as yours. Do it. Stay.”

It was Keith who pulled back, cupped Lance’s face between his hands, eyes serious as a brewing storm. “Are you sure?”

Lance let out a shaky laugh, reality crashing back down around him. “It should be me asking that. You’d hate it here.”

Keith frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Even if you left a mating bite, the whole court would only see you as my personal pets. They’d try to use you against me. You’d be limited in your movements in order to keep you safe. You’d have to attend me at formal functions, learn how to act and bow to everyone you met.” Lance gave a tremulous little smile. “You’d hate it.”

“And I assume you’d have to punish us publicly if we misstepped,” Shiro put in, speaking what both Lance and Keith wanted to ignore most.

“Yes,” Lance said.

Keith’s thumbs slid along Lance’s cheekbones. “But we’d be with you, all the time, keeping you safe?”

Lance knew that the pain he felt from that comment showed on his face. “You only feel that way because I’m an ome—”

The rest of the words were cut off as Keith kissed Lance, hard and aggressive. Claiming. Consuming. Lance lost himself to it, sinking into Shiro’s arms and melting under the gentle rain of kisses Shiro bestowed upon Lance’s neck and shoulders. They kissed him until he could barely think, until he was dizzy from lack of air, and then just a little longer.

When Lance was finally able to suck down a full breath, his lips were swollen and eyes unfocused. Under his robes, he was rock hard and desperately trying not to rut against Keith’s leg.

“I don’t give a shit about omegas,” Keith growled. “I care about _you._ We both do.”

Lance closed his eyes and tried to process that. “It’s dangerous here.”

“That’s why we’re going to protect you.”

“Not just for me,” Lance insisted, opening his eyes to meet Keith’s.

“We’re prepared for that,” Shiro said. “We’ve been talking about it all week. This isn’t spur of the moment. If you’ll have us, we want to stay.”

“And if you get tired of me?” Lance whispered because he couldn’t not ask. He had to know.

“Don’t sabotage it before we even try,” Keith snapped.

“We will handle that if it comes to it,” Shiro said in a voice that calmed Keith’s ire and Lance’s anxiety. “We’re all adults, and we understand that things can change. It wouldn’t be the end of the world. But I think we’d all regret it if we didn’t try.”

Lance tilted his head back to look up at Shiro, pulled in by the kind, dark eyes and the soft smile. Like this, Lance could almost believe… “What if I wasn’t a prince? Or an omega?”

“Then we wouldn’t have met,” Shiro said. “Those parts of you are important to me, to us, but we wouldn’t have fallen for only The Prince or The Omega.”

“We want _you_ ,” Keith finished with finality.

Lance closed his eyes and gave himself over to them. “Then have me.”

Keith didn’t hesitate. He stripped off Lance’s fine robes without finesse, caring less about how to properly please an omega and more about touching Lance’s skin. His teeth nipped and dragged, tongue tasting wherever it pleased. Lance hissed at the feeling of those hot, calloused hands, melting into Shiro’s broad chest. As rough as Keith was, he didn’t feel scary or out of control. He felt safe and protective.

Shiro’s big arm wrapped around Lance’s waist in a steadying hold. Lips pressed to Lance’s temple. “We’ve got you,” Shiro murmured into Lance’s hair, big hand sliding down Lance’s navel.

“I know,” Lance whispered because he did. No other alphas would have risked everything to return Lance to the palace like they had, especially when half out of their minds, desperately fighting their own instincts. If asked previously, Lance hadn’t thought it would be possible, but they overcame the odds. For him.

So he surrendered to them, offering his submission as a gift, as everlasting gratitude for what they’d done for him, what they were to him. He bared his neck, let them move his limbs, and kissed with abandon. When Shiro hooked his arms under Lance’s knees, there was no worry, only a thrill of excitement. When Keith pressed inside, Lance dropped his head back over Shiro’s shoulder and shouted his pleasure.

And when Shiro pressed himself alongside, Lance relaxed into it, knowing they would be careful and never hurt him. He hadn’t realized that this was what he wanted, but it was. He was held safe and secure between the both of them, filled fuller than he’d ever imagined. They were all joined, and he was being spoiled, but not because he was an omega or a prince, but because they loved him.

He wasn’t sure how long it lasted. The sex was slow and full of brushing lips and bruising fingers. Their sweat dripped between them, filling the room with the blended scent Lance was now associating with happiness. They bit him, hard enough to mark, but not hard enough to break skin and scar. They would claim him, but they wouldn’t bond until they were all ready to. Even now, in the midst of mind-numbing pleasure, they were thinking about the future.

Perhaps this was what Lance had been truly missing all these years. Rather than alphas not trained to please him, he’d needed alphas ready to build a life with him regardless of what that might mean. Right here and now, Lance knew that he was better _with_ Keith and Shiro than without.

With one arm behind him to cling to Shiro’s shoulder and the other wrapped around Keith’s neck, Lance watched as the two alphas kissed over his shoulder before dragging them into a sloppy threeway kiss — tongues, lips, and smiles smeared everywhere between them.

“Stay,” Lance whispered into their swollen lips. “Stay with me.”

Their response was to sink teeth into his glands once more, one mouth on each side of his neck. He cried out, and they growled in response.

“Mine,” Lance slurred, drunk on the pleasure and happiness they gave him. In return, they squeezed him tighter and fucked him hard through his release.

꧁___꧂

The doors opened on the grand hall filled with tables, decorations, and bright colors. Music and voices filled the air as much as the scent from hundreds of blooming flowers did. Keith entered, his soft leather slippers making no noise on the floor as he followed behind Lance’s fluttering robes. The splendor of the room had faded over the year Keith had spent in the palace, which mostly meant he had no desire to gawk at and mock the excessive extravagance. That didn’t mean he was unattentive. He kept his eyes on the crowd of people around them.

This meant he was aware of how the murmurs in the room softened and all eyes turned to the prince — and then the prince’s consorts. Keith fought not to frown as a hundred eyes roamed his body. That was a feeling he’d likely never get used to, especially with how he was dressed. The first time Lance had presented the outfit as an option, Keith had called it a golden loincloth and attempted to throw it out the window. Thereafter, Lance took any and every opportunity to make Keith wear it.

To be fair, it was a bit more elaborate than a loincloth, but it still bared his chest and most of his legs. A collar of golden fabric covered his neck, hiding any possible bite marks, which Keith had in abundance at this point — from Shiro and Lance alike. The rest of him was absolutely dripping in too much jewelry to fathom. He sounded like a glass windchime caught in a gale.

He glanced to the side to see Shiro in a similar outfit, his chin up and face serene as if he didn’t mind being on display. Perhaps he didn’t — a discovery Keith was only recently aware of. Since deciding to stay at the palace, Shiro’s cut off arm had never been covered like it had during their initial visits. Lance forbade it, even for formal events. In fact, Lance had jewelry specifically designed to show off that part of Shiro. Such a small thing had such a huge impact on Shiro.

Keith had never been bothered by Shiro’s arm and knew that it did not impede his mate. However, he hadn’t been aware of how much Shiro was hiding when it came to his own insecurities about the partially missing limb. Lance saw that and made every effort to not just accept that part of Shiro, but celebrate it.

 _Little things,_ Keith mused to himself. Lance had enhanced the relationship Shiro and Keith had in thousands of little ways, causing all three of them to grow stronger as a unit. Keith fought a little smile that tugged at his lips.

Lance took his seat at the head table beside his sister who he greeted with a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek. Veronica offered a tiny nod and approving look to Keith and Shiro as they took their places kneeling on the cushions placed on either side of Lance’s feet. The fluid movement needed to fold gracefully onto the pillow and into a relaxed but proper position came with ease of habit.

Of course, habit was the only thing that allowed Keith to appear graceful. His biggest struggle since joining the palace had been learning the list of formalities that dictated how he was to move and speak. It was annoying, and his body had rebelled. He spent hours at it while Shiro sat nearly, bent over a desk and scribbling away.

It was that image that helped Keith suffer through lesson after lesson. Shiro’s parents had sacrificed so much to provide an education for their son. Now, at long last, Shiro was putting that to use in the highest possible level he could. He was working for the palace, for the entire nation, and he practically glowed every day knowing that he was honoring his parents by doing so.

“Did you see who has claws in Hunk these days?” Veronica teased. Lance turned to look, and Keith followed with his eyes. Not too many tables away was Hunk in a perfect kneel at the feet of some dainty omega woman desperate for royal favor.

Keith had spent a long time feeling conflicted about Hunk. When Shiro and Keith decided to stay, they effectively usurped Hunk’s position as the third prince’s favorite. Since then, many people had tried to insert themselves as Hunk’s new benefactor, aiming for the esteem of taking the prince’s once-prized alpha. They aimed to pull all sorts of delicate information about the royal family that Hunk might know, hoping that he’d be bitter enough to spill such secrets.

They all underestimated how loyal Hunk was to his friendship with Lance. In fact, he used all of those encounters to gain insight about who was doing what in Lance’s court and feeding that directly to the prince. Keith thought it was hilarious that the whole palace was turning Hunk into a spy all on their own.

Because the truth was, Hunk wasn’t at all bitter or jealous. In fact, he was elated. It was his infinite patience that molded Keith into a perfect alpha consort, and during that time, they’d become friends. Keith wasn’t good at making friends and had bare few people he could call such, but Hunk was unyieldingly open and kind, and Keith eventually gave in to that.

“She can do her best, but we all know Hunk will cave to only one person,” Lance said with amusement. All of their eyes turned to the omega daughter of a foreign emissary. It was nearing the end of the dry season, so a grand fiesta was being held before people shipped out. This meant Hunk and Shay were sharing more goopy, sappy looks than usual.

“They’d make such a cute couple,” Veronica said with a dreamy sigh. “It’s so romantic, you know? A royal and a commoner, an ocean keeping them apart, true love holding them together.”

“As wide as those shoulders are, you’d think he would have noticed that she was born an alph — Ow! What was that for?” Luis hissed, rubbing his knuckles from where Veronica had rapped them with the back of her spoon.

“There’s no need to bring that up. It’s rude.”

“Stop acting like children and behave in front of a room full of guests,” their grandmother admonished and all royal heirs fell quiet. Keith bit back a smile and saw Shiro doing the same out of the corner of his eye.

Nobody enjoyed these functions overmuch, but they were part and parcel of being royalty, and by extension, a necessity for being with Lance. Besides, life wasn’t all boredom. Keith and Shiro would sometimes go on covert missions into not only the capital city but the cities Lance visited on his tour of the islands. They would be able to observe and talk to the common folk from the middle class to the slums, listening and asking questions of those who lived there. It had already done so much to improve the lives of the citizens, and more plans were in place for future projects.

Lance still received pushback from his advisors about how much money he suddenly wanted to dump into the city but was able to silence them effectively. “If we do not offer a superior life for every citizen, regardless of gender, then we are no better than the ideals of the men who kidnapped me. And worst of all, we cannot call ourselves the shining jewel of the world if loyal citizens are suffering.”

Keith had never felt so proud to hear Lance say those words and remain strong in the face of naive but powerful nobility.

Their strangest ally was Joaquín. After Lance’s return to the palace, Joaquín had pushed for a reform of the palace guard and staff. He effectively rooted out multiple dissenters, servants who’d been paid off, and no less than five families held under threat of the Phoenicians. He was now helping to run security for the palace, a position that earned him great prestige.

Joaquín had a silver tongue and too much ambition, so both Keith and Lance remained ever suspicious. Still, Joaquín was careful to keep a perfect image since Lance’s shift in focus when dealing with both the country’s affairs and royal advisors. As for Joaquín’s sadistic streak, it was currently focused on only one royal alpha who appeared to enjoy such games.

Something moved in front of Keith’s face, effectively distracting him from his thoughts. Lance’s hand hovered before Keith’s lips, a bite of food pinched between the long fingers. Lance knew damn well that Keith would rather go hungry and eat a midnight meal once back in their rooms than suffer through being fed. Thus, Lance smirked at Keith’s subtle glare since he also knew Keith couldn’t refuse. With a huff, Keith parted his lips and took the food, leaving a nip of warning on the pad of Lance’s thumb. It only earned him a laugh.

The push and pull between them never ended. They fought as much as they fucked, usually. Shiro had fretted at first, but now he let them be, knowing it was just how their dynamic worked. Keith, for one, loved that Lance never backed down. Perhaps that encouraged Lance too much since he knew it meant being taken rougher than normal once they were locked away in his rooms. Oh, well. Keith couldn’t deny that the defiance thrilled some alpha part of himself deep inside.

A gust of wind cut through the windows and cleared out the pressing smell of so many bodies. The fresh salt scent soothed Keith and reminded him that they would need to find time to visit the ocean soon before the storms began in earnest. Their little getaways were, of course, the best moments.

Whenever they had time, the three of them would sneak out of the palace to the cliffs and jump into the sea. There was a small island, barely big enough for a few palm trees, that was surrounded by a vibrant reef. From where they dove into the water, it was only a quick swim away. There, alone and cut off from the world, they could strip off their titles and responsibilities and simply be them.

Under the hot sun, surrounded by the smell of plants and water, listening to the hum of tiny wings and the crash of ocean waves, they’d lose themselves to their carnal desires over and over again. Afterwards, they’d lie in each other’s arms, content and sated, murmuring and giggling about everything and nothing. There was no looking over their shoulders, no expectations — only them and their island where they could simply be, open and stripped to their core selves.

Just Keith. Just Shiro. Just Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg I finally finished it! \o/ Considering how long ago I started this google doc, I never thought this day would come. lol
> 
> I was gonna have the boys officially bite Lance during that sex scene but decided it was too soon and Not Responsible, so I waited. I hope nobody was disappointed. hehe
> 
> This has been super fun to write, and I enjoyed dipping my toes in a Cuban/Oceana fantasy world. I hope you all liked it as well! Thank you everyone who took a chance on reading a new Shklance fic at the end of 2020. You're the real heroes. XD

**Author's Note:**

> Amazing art from DropTheBeet [here!](https://thatvixenchick.tumblr.com/post/627172890365902848/dropthebeet-ao3-this-is-art-for-the-amazing)
> 
> http://thatvixenchick.tumblr.com  
> https://twitter.com/The_Vixen13 (nsfw)


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